Introduction: Thirumavalavan at 50

In the past two decades Dalit mobilisation in Tamil Nadu has raised consciousness and challenged continuing forms of untouchability. In doing so Dalit movements have challenged Dravidian hegemony, highlighted their neglect of the downtrodden and expanded the political sphere. Whilst Dalit organisations are still shut out of the corridors of power they have gained political recognition and placed their concerns onto the mainstream agenda as alliance partners of the state’s dominant political parties. Whilst the goal of an egalitarian society remains a distant dream, therefore, we need to recognise the significant changes that have been achieved over the past few decades.

Thirumavalavan has been one of, if not the, central figures in this Dalit upsurge. His fiery oratory has inspired a generation of activists both within and beyond the Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi. Even many of his fiercest critics owe their political conscientisation to the DPI’s early mobilisation and campaigning. Countless copy-book parties and movements bear testimony to the appeal of the Panthers and the enduring power of the call to resist, rise up, rebel and fight back. The radical firebrand is no longer young and no longer an ‘extremist’ or outsider since he became an MP in 2009. ‘The anger has gone’ one activist said. I’d disagree. The anger is still there but now it smoulders where once it raged. The agitator who used to condemn opposition leaders with colourful language must now choose his words with more care, but he can still cause political storms as the recent issue of the textbook cartoon depicting Dr Ambedkar demonstrated. Now, as the ‘Che Guevara of the Cheris’ turns 50, we can reflect briefly on his political career.

Speaking Change

Before I met Thirumavalavan in 1999 I had a firm image of him in my mind from countless portraits, photographs and murals and been treated to his impassioned voice blaring out of loudspeakers in urban and rural cheris. At meeting after meeting that year his speeches electrified crowds, renewed the commitment of activists and sent a message ringing loud and clear to passers-by. Back then media coverage was scanty and he had to take the message into villages, towns and cities himself. On stages at book-launches, at demonstrations by the side of the road, at movement weddings and flag-raisings or at the Melavalavu memorial, Thirumavalavan highlighted abuses, exposed the chicanery of the state, offered perceptive analyses of caste and spoke of a better tomorrow.

Scholars of protest and social movements argue that voicing a vocabulary of resistance, challenging taken-for-granted assumptions and mapping out how things could be different are as important a part of the revolution as building the barricades and engaging in armed struggle. They invest the audience with a sense of the possibilities for change and encourage them to contest age old inequities. Certainly in 1999, villagers and townsfolk would quote examples or passages from his speeches to make a point or to explain their refusal to abide by caste norms and practices. As Kandasamy notes: ‘in a state with pathetically low literacy levels, oral dissemination of ideology enabled even the unlettered rural people to become politically conscious’ (2004: xxii). The rousing rhetoric of the Panther leader, thus, has played a prominent role in the Dalit politics of resistance.

Grassroots Campaigns

Of course, the Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi was not built on a voice alone. Each speech in 1999 entailed travel, meeting people and listening to their stories. One recurrent theme in interviews with party supporters was the accessibility and approachability of the leader who would take time to enter homes, share food and interact. The ‘good’ movement leader is always on call. It was said of Louis XVIII of France that his life was a public spectacle. The same could be asserted of Thirumavalavan. Whether ‘on duty’ or ‘at rest’ there are people on hand wanting to see him, hear him, or touch him. Today the proliferation of mobile phones means that there is an ever greater crush each time he arrives anywhere as people jostle to get a snap. The concept of privacy has little meaning in this context. Pleas, commands and curses have little impact in such settings, yet he bears the burden of devotion with remarkable good humour and patience.

Being an MP has, if anything, increased this load. Travel now means criss-crossing states and continents, yet at least one week each month is devoted to the same procession of social engagements and meetings at home. Speeches these days begin by citing increased workload and MP commitments before informing those gathered about his parliamentary interventions that do not make the pages of the newspapers. Leadership, it is clear, is not simply a matter of political representation. It is a form of social relations closely tied to everyday practices and concerns. The leader names children, blesses marriages and housewarmings, arbitrates between disputants, mediates between followers and the State, and acts as a broker for a range of resources. Above all, research suggests, movement leaders are strategic decision-makers who inspire and organise others to participate. All Thirumavalavan’s powers of persuasion and organisation have been put to the test time and again.

In 1999 the Viduthalai Chiruthaigal abandoned their ten-year boycott of the polls and decided to contest the elections. For a movement which prided itself on its radicalism; that attracted a cadre who were anxious to ‘hit back’; and that had condemned the ‘sewer of politics’ this was a momentous and bitterly contested decision. Many followers vowed to leave, many more were clearly unhappy with the move. Several movements have fallen at this stage as leaders have announced their change of direction without proper consultation. In the months leading up to the election in 1999 Thirumavalavanaddressed public meeting after meeting – often three or four in one day – as he travelled up and down the state to explain and justify the decision and win over reluctant cadres. Not everyone was persuaded of course, but the campaign turned the tide within the movement. More importantly, it influenced the external perception of the event as well. The abiding motto of that campaign was the assertion that ‘our votes are for ourselves’ – a slogan thatresonated across the state, brought people to the polling booths for the first time and delivered 1.5 lakh votes to Thirumavalavan in a Chidambaram constituency beset by caste violence and impediments.

The Political Panthers

‘To drag the downtrodden out of the mire in which they have been enslaved’, Thirumavalavan asserts, ‘you need a clear sighted movement … with the patience to explain its ideology to the people’.It was the willingness to explain the decision to the cadres, to face their anger and reason with them that enabled the relatively smooth transition from movement to party. But if explanation was important for the movement, it is vital for the party.In the past decade of political engagement Thirumavalavan has had a lot of explaining to do: Why this candidate and not another? Why this coalition? Why not a third front? What have you achieved as a party? Why didn’t you resign over this issue? Are you running katta panchayats? Having inspired a culture of questioning, he has to endure its consequences. As a movement leader, furthermore, he was immune from claims that he was out to enrich himself. Now that he is an MP he has to face claims about corruption, compromises and co-optation. Despite this, he is not averse to tough and unpopular decisions. Recently he has raised the dangers and problems of alcoholism – all too apparent to Dalit women – on stages where several of the cadre are drunk.Other decisions have gained more enthusiastic acceptance. From the outset he has refused the label of a caste leader, exhorting followers to avoid casteist terminology. The VCK, consequently, boasts Pallar and Arunthathiyar members as well as Paraiyar and can now try and reach out to others.

The biggest issue facing the VCK today comes as the party seeks to broad-base its appeal. Dalit leaders cannot take their own following for granted and must anticipate the antipathy of the general electorate. The realisation that their mass appeal does not necessarily translate into votes has forced a reconsideration of tactics. ‘We must be with the people’, Thirumavalavan declared shortly after entering electoral competition. ‘Politics, by definition, means not being alienated from the people’ (Interview 1999). The entry into politics, however, has altered the composition of the ‘people’ in question. Given that Dalits cannot win seats on their own, due heed must be paid to the votes of others. It is this dynamic that fuels the search for alliance partners and the attempt to widen the composition of, and support for, the party. This has led to mass recruitment drives aimed at non-Dalits and minorities as much as the traditional supporters. In recent meetings to restructure the local level leadership of the party the emphasis has been on allocating posts to non-Dalits, minorities and women. This, perhaps, is Thirumavalavan’s greatest challenge. The move to politics threatened the identities of activists, but this broadening of appeal and preferential promotion of new recruits threatens to overlook their hard-work and sacrifices.

Thirumavalavan’s leadership style has shone through at this point. He has devoted days when he should have been in parliament to interacting with party post-holders and followers. He has painstakingly explainedand re-explained the rationale for the decision. He has praised the work of long-term cadres, expressed his gratitude towards them and asked time and again for their patience. He has faced their disgruntlement and frustration in person and answered the same questions time after time. Beyond this he has taken to the campaign trail once more, talking through the changes in public meetings, party weddings and other functions. Doubtless there will be desertions and upset and anger for many, but amongst the cadre and activists that I have spoken to there is also a (often grudging) acceptance of the arguments being put forward and an enduring attachment to the leader.

Thalaivar!

This emphasis on the leader is both a strength and potential weakness of the party. When Thirumavalavan was indisposed in 1999, attendance at protests dropped and many meetings, ceremonies, and even weddings were postponed. It was not that the movement could not have gone ahead with these programmes, but that the people involved were unwilling to deny themselves a visit by the leader. There was also the view that no such event would be complete without his presence. Movement leaders have to compete with film stars and politicians for people’s attention, but around Madurai pre-school children can identify photographs of ‘Thimallan Annan’ even if they cannot yet pronounce his name. Such public recognition would usually be reserved to the most popular figures of the Tamil film industry. This focus on the leader, however, can have its downside.

Ideally local cadre would have the autonomy to respond to issues of immediate concern, but local figures were frequently dependent on the leader, both as a guiding figure and as an authority whose word would be acceptable to all. Dilemmas, such as the wording for a poster of protest, were often referred to the leader who would have the final say. This is not news to Thirumavalavan himself. At a recent meet to nominate new local leaders and district secretaries he asked candidates to nominate two people other than themselves for the role as a step towards internal elections and to aid his decision making. Hardly any welcomed this innovation: ‘You decide, you decide’ was the chorus. The VCK now has an established secondary leadership in the party, but it will take a cultural change or a vastly increased number of MLAs and MPs for cadres to accept a greater devolution of responsibility. For now even the most senior secondary leaders lack the authority of the leader.

Moving Forward

Leaders must act simultaneously within the movement to mobilise participants and as a link to the wider society to whom issues and grievances must be articulated. Fulfilling both roles can be problematic and so the responsibility for mobilising and maintaining the movement falls predominantly on localleaders who must help maintain the trust, interest and support of members through sustained engagement and interaction. As the VCK transcends its social origins they must apply their critique of the political process to their own organisation. The current process to improve internal democracy and implement democratic decision making and dispute solving procedures within the party, thus, is vitally important. If the VCK is to avoid repeated schisms and splits, the workings of leadership must be rendered transparent and more responsibility must be devolved.Currently decisions are sometimes based more on emotion than deliberation, but we must recognise how the wider political culture constrains Dalit decision making and frames what it means to ‘do politics’ in Tamil Nadu.

Secondly, for all Thirumavalavan’s insightful speeches and rousing rhetoric the party remains incident sensitive rather than programmatically focused. The rhetoric of women’s liberation is ever present, for instance, but it often belied in practice.Likewise, the issues of land-rights, education, reservations in the private sector, the distribution of special component plan funds and justice for Sri Lankan Tamils come to the fore only to be replaced by more pressing incidents or issues. Sustained and focused campaigns might not gain greater rewards but would emphasise the ideological impetus of the movement. There is no reason why this is not possible, and steps have already been taken towards greater democratisation. At 50, Thirumavalavan is younger than most leaders when they assume office. He has, though, had to shoulder the burden of leadership for over 20 years already. In a context where politicians from all parties have amassed fortunes and built empires Thirumavalavan’s willingness to continue the gruelling round of meetings and social events remains an inspiration, but he cannot do everything alone. A fitting birthday present would be for more in the party to follow his ideology rather than just his convoy. Were that to happen, then as one slogan promised, Tamil Nadu might truly be turned on its head.