Capitalising on Changing Tamil Voter Mood, The Rise of Vijay and the Crisis of Dravidian Politics
The lead-up to the elections was predictable. The campaigns had to deal with issues that have been the staple of political exchange in the State since the DMK came to power in 2021: the Dravidian model of growth and social justice versus the Hindutva model of authoritarian unity and erosion of rights; corruption and misgovernance of an incumbent party versus rosy promises of honest, accountable and equally welfare governance, presided over by the AIADMK, under the aegis of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). But into this predictable landscape stepped actor C. Joseph Vijay, promising a ‘third’ path, without quite telling his voters what that means. He stuck to the time-tested welfare and anti-Hindutva idiom, but his real capital was his persona. In this neo-liberal era of self-creation and self-help, it helps to have a personality that is as much a hologram as a person. For a generation growing up with precarity and uncertainty, while being drawn into the promises and perfidies of the gig economy, the Dravidian model cannot be expected to mean much. Vijay has thus gained from the sins of omission and commission of extant parties.
Persona as Capital: The Hologram Politics of Vijay
Mr. Vijay promised a ‘third’ path, without quite telling his voters what that means – except that he stuck to the time-tested welfare and anti-Hindutva idiom. His poll managers ensured that he did not say anything contentious, and proclaimed his persona as his capital – in this neo-liberal era of self-creation and self-help, it helps to have a personality that is as much a hologram as a person. Which is also why nothing sticks to him – whether it is outrage over the more than 40 deaths in Karur (September 2025) or criticism of his cynical use of children to garner votes.
Vijay’s campaign was not built on a detailed policy manifesto. It was built on a carefully curated image: a clean, energetic, compassionate alternative to the geriatric, dynastic, and corrupt Dravidian establishment. He identified the DMK as his “political opponent” but the BJP as his “ideological opponent,” declaring himself a follower of Periyar, Kamaraj, and Ambedkar. This allowed him to draw from the Dravidian legacy while distancing himself from the DMK’s current incarnation. It also reassured minority voters that he was not a BJP proxy.
But beneath the surface, the campaign was hollow. He did not speak about complex policy; he spoke about dignity, respect, and the need for a new generation of leadership. For young voters, who have no memory of the Dravidian movement’s founding, Vijay was not a break from tradition; he was the future. The proliferation of images and words on screens collapsed the gap between intent and action. Vijay occupies this collapsed space – his presence is already action.
The Changing Tamil Voter: Precarious, Impatient, and Disillusioned
For a generation growing up with precarity and uncertainty, while being drawn into the promises and perfidies of the gig economy, the Dravidian model cannot be expected to mean much. For older voters, Tamil Nadu’s economic growth holds no surprises, and for those who have not been part of this growth process, such as rural Dalits and other working-class people, especially women, there is nothing to be celebrated. Cash transfers and subsidies do not address the deep indebtedness that many women are trapped in. As for corruption, it is viewed as a given, and nobody baulks at its ubiquity, and there has been no concerted attempt to challenge it.
The fear of the BJP and its disregard for rights cannot mean much to voters in a State that has returned the authoritarian J. Jayalalithaa to power several times. The DMK’s warnings about the BJP’s threat to secularism and federalism fell on deaf ears because voters had experienced authoritarianism under a Dravidian leader and had survived. The “BJP threat” is not new; it is a familiar tune that has lost its scare value.
The Hollowing of Social Justice
Claims to social justice cannot but appear ironic to Dalits in this context. The two Dravidian parties have been indifferent to the persistence of brutal violence against them – especially the spate of killings of young Dalit men who dared to love caste Hindu women. For all their veneration of Periyar, the DMK’s leaders have not sustained a public dialogue or educational outreach on inter-caste love and marriage. The party that claims to represent the legacy of the Self-Respect Movement has been silent when Dalit lives are lost to caste pride. This silence is not an oversight; it is a structural feature. The DMK’s support base includes powerful backward castes (Vanniyars, Thevars, Gounders) who are often the perpetrators of violence against Dalits. To speak out would be to alienate these constituencies. So the party chooses silence, and Dalits learn that their lives are expendable.
Social justice, especially the reservation policy, is not an existential issue in that it is yet another detail to be attended to while filling forms. Or it becomes a matter of contention when used to discredit reservation for Dalits. In short, reservation is neither valued nor understood, and Dravidian parties have been lax in meaningful political communication on the subject. For older voters, reservation, or for that matter social justice, holds no special interest—after all, it is a default setting. It has been important only when it helped to build dominant caste constituencies. As Tamil scholar Stalin Rajangam pointed out nearly 15 years ago, reservation has been a focal point for numerically powerful backward castes to mobilise their caste brethren into a political force, which is then used to torment Dalits who are assertive, and on that basis, to proclaim a caste’s claim to power within the larger body politic.
The DMK’s Technocratic Failure
The DMK’s model of rule too has contributed to the party being edged out. For some time now, the government has relied on policymaking undertaken by able bureaucrats, with the support of non-governmental organisations or private research institutes, rather than heed voices from the ground. It is ironic that sanitary workers complaining about unfair wages are ignored until it is impossible to do so, even as local bodies commission studies on municipal waste. The DMK has become a party of technocrats, not cadres. Policy is made in air-conditioned offices, not in village meetings. The voice of the ordinary party worker has been replaced by the survey of the professional consultant.
This is not unique to the DMK. Across the world, political parties have shifted from mass-based organisations to electoral-professional machines. But the DMK’s transformation is particularly striking because it claims a mass base. The party that once organised agitations, that once brought people into the streets, now relies on welfare schemes delivered through Direct Benefit Transfer (DBT). The cadre has been repurposed from organisers to beneficiaries. They no longer debate ideology; they queue for cash.
The Real Losers: VCK and the Left
The real and tragic losers in this election are the Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi (VCK) and the Left parties. The AIADMK is not burdened by ideology and has been let down by an uneven caste arithmetic. But the Left and Dalit parties have stayed within an uneasy alliance and not benefited from it—in spite of individual victories, their vision of social change has been forced into a framework that is not theirs, and they would now need to retrieve it. The VCK, led by Thol. Thirumavalavan, has been the most consistent voice against caste oppression in Tamil Nadu. But in alliance with the DMK, the VCK has been rendered silent. It has traded its ideological edge for ministerial berths. The Left parties (CPI and CPI-M) have suffered a similar fate. Once the alternative to Dravidian politics, they are now reduced to junior partners in a coalition they cannot lead.
The Future: A New Political Landscape
The 2026 election results mark the end of an era. The Dravidian parties, which have dominated Tamil Nadu politics for half a century, are in decline. The DMK has been edged out. The AIADMK is in disarray. The VCK and Left are marginalised. The BJP is gaining. And Vijay is rising. The political landscape of Tamil Nadu is fragmenting. The bipolar system is giving way to a multi-polar free-for-all.
For Dalits and the oppressed, the future is uncertain. The DMK took them for granted. The VCK sold them out. The BJP is hostile. Vijay is an unknown quantity. His party’s manifesto says little about caste, and his statements have been carefully ambiguous. Will he challenge caste oppression or accommodate it? Will he protect inter-caste couples or look away? These are open questions.
For the Left, the future is bleak. The CPI and CPI-M must retrieve their vision of social change and build a politics that speaks to the youth, not through old slogans but through new struggles. They must decide whether to remain in alliances that dilute their identity or to go it alone and risk electoral irrelevance.
For the VCK, the future is a choice. It can continue as a junior partner in Dravidian coalitions, trading ideology for office, or it can return to its roots as a Dalit assertion movement, building power from the ground up. The latter is harder, but it is the only path to relevance.
For Tamil Nadu, the future is a question. Will the state continue its tradition of social justice, or will it slide into majoritarian politics? Will it produce a new ideological alternative, or will it settle for celebrity spectacle? The answers will be written not in the next election, but in the streets, the classrooms, and the homes where the work of politics is done.
Q&A: Tamil Nadu’s Changing Political Mood
Q1: What does the article mean by “persona as capital,” and how does it apply to Vijay’s campaign?
A1: In the “neo-liberal era of self-creation and self-help,” Vijay’s poll managers “proclaimed his persona as his capital.” The article states that Vijay has a personality that is “as much a hologram as a person.” He promised a ‘third’ path “without quite telling his voters what that means,” sticking to “time-tested welfare and anti-Hindutva idiom.” Nothing sticks to him—whether outrage over the “more than 40 deaths in Karur” or criticism of his “cynical use of children to garner votes.” The article argues that the “proliferation of images and words on our screens has collapsed the gap between intent and action. And Mr. Vijay occupies this collapsed space – his presence is already action.”
Q2: Why does the Dravidian model fail to resonate with younger and marginalised voters?
A2: For a generation growing up with “precarity and uncertainty” in the gig economy, “the Dravidian model cannot be expected to mean much.” For older voters, Tamil Nadu’s economic growth “holds no surprises.” For those not part of this growth process—”rural Dalits and other working-class people, especially women”—there is “nothing to be celebrated.” Cash transfers and subsidies do not address the “deep indebtedness that many women are trapped in.” Corruption is “viewed as a given,” and there has been “no concerted attempt to challenge it.” The fear of the BJP “cannot mean much to voters in a State that has returned the authoritarian J. Jayalalithaa to power several times.”
Q3: How does the article critique the DMK’s handling of social justice and caste violence?
A3: The article argues that “claims to social justice cannot but appear ironic to Dalits.” The two Dravidian parties have been “indifferent to the persistence of brutal violence” against Dalits, especially “killings of young Dalit men who dared to love caste Hindu women.” For all their veneration of Periyar, the DMK’s leaders have not sustained a “public dialogue or educational outreach on inter-caste love and marriage.” Reservation is “neither valued nor understood,” and Dravidian parties have been “lax in meaningful political communication on the subject.” As Tamil scholar Stalin Rajangam noted, reservation has been a “focal point for numerically powerful backward castes to mobilise their caste brethren into a political force, which is then used to torment Dalits who are assertive.”
Q4: Who are described as the “real and tragic losers” in the election, and why?
A4: The “real and tragic losers” are the Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi (VCK) and the Left parties. The VCK “has been the most consistent voice against caste oppression” but, in alliance with the DMK, has been “rendered silent,” trading its “ideological edge for ministerial berths.” The Left parties (CPI and CPI-M) have suffered a similar fate—once the “alternative to Dravidian politics,” they are now “reduced to junior partners in a coalition they cannot lead.” The alliance with the DMK has not benefited them because the DMK’s model of governance leaves “no space for their vision.” The DMK wants “technicians, not ideologues; implementers, not agitators.”
Q5: What are the uncertainties for Tamil Nadu’s political future identified in the article?
A5: For Dalits, the future is “uncertain.” The DMK took them for granted; the VCK sold them out; the BJP is hostile; Vijay is an “unknown quantity.” Will he “challenge caste oppression or accommodate it? Will he protect inter-caste couples or look away?” For the Left, the future is “bleak.” They must “retrieve their vision of social change” and decide whether to “remain in alliances that dilute their identity or go it alone.” For the VCK, it must choose between continuing as a “junior partner in Dravidian coalitions” or returning to its “roots as a Dalit assertion movement.” For Tamil Nadu, the question is whether the state will “continue its tradition of social justice, or slide into majoritarian politics” and whether it will “produce a new ideological alternative, or settle for celebrity spectacle.” The answers will be written “in the streets, the classrooms, and the homes where the work of politics is done.”
