— ✍️ Gauthama Prabhu Nagappan

The recent electoral developments in Tamil Nadu have laid bare the profound contradictions embedded within the political culture of the state. For decades, Tamil Nadu projected itself as a political landscape shaped by rationalism, social justice, and ideological movements emerging from the legacy of Dravidar Kazhagam. Yet the contemporary political moment reveals how these ideological foundations have increasingly degenerated into personality cults, electoral opportunism, and tactical alliances that frequently negate previously asserted principles.

The emergence of Tamilaga Vettri Kazhagam (TVK) under the leadership of C. Joseph Vijay exemplifies this transformation. The electoral momentum and substantial vote share secured by the party cannot be understood solely through the lens of political organisation or ideological coherence. A significant section of TVK supporters comprises political novices whose allegiance is invested less in a structured socio-political vision and more in an emotional faith in the charisma of Vijay. This reflects the persistent phenomenon of hero worship within Tamil politics, wherein cinematic personalities are elevated into messianic political figures beyond substantive ideological scrutiny.

The hero worship embedded within Indian society extends far beyond electoral politics. It includes processes of divinisation and deification, personality cults, celebrity worship, and forms of idolatry surrounding entertainers, musicians, actors, sports icons, religious figures, and intellectual personalities. Such admiration often ranges from ordinary public affection to what sociologists identify as “celebrity worship syndrome,” wherein individuals cultivate an intense and emotionally parasitic sense of personal connection with public figures. Sports icons such as Sachin Tendulkar and M. S. Dhoni are frequently idealised not merely for their achievements but also for lifestyles mythologised by the public imagination. Likewise, historical and mythological figures such as Murugan occupy deeply venerated positions within cultural consciousness. Indian society also witnesses forms of intellectual or prophetic veneration, where poets, philosophers, reformers, and spiritual teachers are transformed into unquestionable moral authorities whose ideas shape collective social imagination. Hero worship today also extends into bureaucratic and academic spaces, where positions such as Vice Chancellor, IAS, IPS, and alumni identities associated with elite institutions like Tata Institute of Social Sciences (TISS), Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), London School of Economics, Harvard University, and Stanford University often acquire symbolic prestige that discourages critical engagement. Institutional pedigree itself becomes a form of authority and social capital. Such tendencies, while culturally embedded, become politically dangerous when critical thinking is replaced by emotional submission and democratic accountability is eclipsed by unconditional reverence.

In fact, the interrelationship between cinema and politics has long shaped the political imagination of Tamil Nadu. Leaders such as M. Karunanidhi, M. G. Ramachandran (MGR), J. Jayalalithaa, Udhayanidhi Stalin, and even Thol. Thirumavalavan attempted, in varying degrees, to cultivate cinematic or performative public personalities for political mileage. MGR and Jayalalithaa successfully transformed cinematic charisma into enduring political capital, using mass emotional identification as an instrument of political consolidation. Karunanidhi and Thirumavalavan, on the other hand, relied more heavily upon rhetorical performance, ideological theatre, and emotionally charged public oratory to mobilise support. Yet both cinematic charisma and rabble-rousing eloquence ultimately function as theatrical performances aimed at influencing the masses.

These supposedly dichotomous modes of political representation have, in practice, marginalised the deeper question of social justice, which ought to constitute the moral core of political democracy. Consequently, the structural status quo of caste violence, social exclusion, and inequality continues to persist beneath the spectacle of electoral politics. What is therefore required is a new social movement capable of dismantling this collective social intoxication and cultivating a politically conscious citizenry capable of critical thought rather than emotional submission.

Yet this phenomenon is by no means exclusive to TVK. Comparable tendencies permeate established political formations as well. Even within Dalit political spaces, ideological commitment frequently coexists with intense personality-based mobilisation. Many supporters of Thol. Thirumavalavan perceive him not merely as a political representative but as an embodiment of Dalit assertion itself. Although the Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi (VCK) claims an ideological foundation rooted in anti-caste politics and social justice, its recent political manoeuvres reveal contradictions analogous to those of mainstream Dravidian parties.

During the election, several parties accused TVK of functioning indirectly within the ideological orbit of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh and the Bharatiya Janata Party. Thirumavalavan himself reportedly characterised Vijay as a “product of RSS politics.” Yet the subsequent willingness of VCK to support TVK in government formation demonstrates the fluidity and inconsistency that now define alliance politics. Such reversals erode ideological credibility and reduce political discourse to mere strategic convenience.

The contradiction becomes even more pronounced in the relationship between the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) and the All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK). Historically, both parties have projected each other as ideological adversaries, particularly concerning questions of secularism and relations with the BJP. Yet the ideological compromise of DMK is hardly unprecedented. In 1999, the BJP-led NDA alliance itself included both DMK and VCK, demonstrating that Tamil Nadu’s electoral history has repeatedly witnessed ideological boundaries dissolve before political expediency. The electorate is not oblivious to these contradictions. Rather, many voters are exhausted by the cyclical reproduction of the same political order, thereby reinforcing the narrative of anti-incumbency.

Nevertheless, the current moment complicates even the traditional anti-incumbency framework. A considerable segment of the electorate appears willing to embrace a largely non-ideological political alternative, provided it promises certain elementary expectations of democratic society: the eradication of corruption, institutional accountability, the protection of women, employment opportunities, and freedom from the escalating menace of narcotic abuse. In this sense, the appeal of TVK appears less ideological than emotional, aspirational, and administrative.

The Christian community in Tamil Nadu likewise appears to derive a certain symbolic satisfaction from the possibility that C. Joseph Vijay could become the first Christian Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu. Yet within this atmosphere of ideological fluidity and political compromise, a deeper anxiety persists: whether the constitutional rights, dignity, and security of minorities can genuinely remain protected under such unstable political configurations.

Another deeply troubling development is the statement made by TVK treasurer and minister P. Venkataramanan, who dismissed anti-Brahminism as an “outdated ideology,” asserting that “Brahminism,” understood as domination and discrimination, no longer exists in contemporary society. He further argued that today’s youth prioritise merit and labour over caste identity, presenting this as evidence of Tamil Nadu’s evolving political culture. Such remarks reveal either a profound ignorance of India’s enduring social realities or a calculated attempt to trivialise structural inequalities sustained through caste hierarchy. Brahminism is not reducible to the existence of Brahmins as individuals; it signifies a deeply entrenched social order reproduced through graded inequality, exclusion, and inherited privilege. To deny the persistence of caste oppression is to negate the lived experiences of millions who continue to encounter discrimination in education, employment, housing, marriage, and social dignity. A political figure who dismisses these realities effectively positions himself within the legitimising framework of the brahminical social order. Equally revealing is the silence of parties such as DMK, AIADMK, Communist Party of India (CPI), Communist Party of India (Marxist) (CPM), and VCK, whose passivity exposes the extent to which even self-proclaimed social justice movements have become spectators in the ideological dilution of Tamil politics.

The growing tension between regional identity and centralised nationalist symbolism can also be observed beyond Tamil Nadu. The controversy surrounding “Vande Mataram” during the commemoration of Khongjom Day in Manipur illustrates this conflict between national identity and local historical consciousness. Khongjom Day commemorates the Manipuri martyrs who died resisting British colonial forces in 1891. Critics argued that the official state song, “Sana Leibak Manipur,” which symbolises the cultural and historical identity of Manipur, was sidelined in favour of “Vande Mataram.” Several underground groups reportedly opposed the singing of the national song during the commemoration, viewing it as incompatible with their ideological and cultural position. For many Manipuris, the issue was not merely ceremonial but deeply political: whether local identity and historical memory would be subordinated to a homogenised national symbolism.

A comparable controversy emerged in Tamil Nadu during the oath-taking ceremony of the new government. Traditionally, official state functions begin with the “Tamil Thaai Vaazhthu” and conclude with the National Anthem, thereby balancing regional cultural identity with constitutional nationalism. However, the reported decision to include the full six-stanza rendition of “Vande Mataram,” allegedly in accordance with a January 2026 directive from the Union Home Ministry, generated concern among sections of the public. Critics perceived this not merely as an administrative modification, but as an ideological imposition associated with majoritarian Hindutva nationalism upon culturally and religiously diverse populations. Such developments intensify anxieties regarding the erosion of secularism and federal plurality in India, especially when symbols associated with one civilisational or religious imagination are elevated as compulsory expressions of patriotism for all communities irrespective of their distinct historical and cultural experiences.

Another disturbing reality widely acknowledged by the public is the pervasive influence of money power in elections. Both DMK and AIADMK have repeatedly faced allegations of vote buying, and despite widespread public awareness, monetary inducement continues to dominate electoral mobilisation. Although TVK positioned itself as an alternative, it too has not escaped similar accusations. Consequently, the electorate’s desire for political change cannot automatically be interpreted as an endorsement of ideological integrity.

In this atmosphere of collapsing binaries and ideological ambiguity, the gravest challenge confronting the Dalit community is how to pursue substantive social justice without becoming captive to personality cults or opportunistic political arrangements. Dalit issues cannot be reduced merely to administrative failures or law-and-order disturbances; they are fundamentally political questions rooted in the historical structures of caste power, social exclusion, and unequal access to dignity and resources. When atrocities against Dalits are treated only as policing failures or governance lapses, the deeper ideological foundations of caste oppression remain unchallenged. The narratives emerging from Tamilaga Vettri Kazhagam often appear to frame Dalit concerns within an administrative paradigm rather than recognising them as manifestations of systemic political inequality. Such an approach risks depoliticising caste violence and transforming a structural question of justice into a mere issue of bureaucratic management and social control.

Victims of social injustice are routinely abandoned within the labyrinths of corrupt bureaucracy, inadequate judicial intervention, performative “kangaroo courts” operating in the name of Dalit politics, and continuous exploitation by both ruling and opposition parties alike. What becomes urgently necessary, therefore, is the emergence of a grassroots people’s movement capable of transcending this pervasive political illiteracy and social indifference. Such transformation cannot be achieved merely through electoral victories or parliamentary arithmetic; it requires sustained civic engagement, ethical political education, and collective social consciousness.

Within this context, Buddhist politics offers a profoundly transformative moral and philosophical alternative for Tamil Nadu and India alike. The political vision inspired by Buddha, and later radically rearticulated by B. R. Ambedkar, was never grounded in personality worship, sectarian hatred, or cynical electoral opportunism. Instead, it was rooted in compassion, rational inquiry, ethical self-transformation, and the annihilation of suffering generated by oppressive social structures. Ambedkar’s conversion to Buddhism in 1956 constituted not merely a spiritual act but a civilisational and political repudiation of caste hierarchy and brahminical domination. Likewise, the Tamil Buddhist intellectual tradition represented by Iyothee Thass sought to reconstruct dignity among oppressed communities through education, historical reclamation, and emancipatory consciousness.

Buddhist politics, therefore, must not be misconstrued as theocratic governance or religious nationalism. Rather, it signifies the construction of a society grounded in ethical governance, human dignity, fraternity, non-violence, and social responsibility. It aspires to transform politics from a marketplace of power into a movement of moral awakening. A socially engaged Buddhist politics possesses the capacity to confront caste oppression, patriarchy, corruption, communal hatred, and economic exploitation through ethical courage and collective consciousness. Such a movement must emerge not merely from political institutions, but from villages, educational spaces, labour movements, women’s collectives, youth initiatives, and spiritually grounded communities committed to justice and human liberation. Only such an ethically rooted and socially transformative politics can move Tamil Nadu beyond symbolic binaries and recover the emancipatory essence of social justice.

- The Author is a senior advocate in Madras High court and leading member of the South Indian Buddhist Council.