Make no mistake. Thoothukudi on Wednesday was an opinion poll with a sample size bigger than anyone else’s. While the critics of ‘Thalapathy’ Vijay have dismissed it as nothing more than a filmstar-crazy crowd or a crowd comprising the fishermen community where the actor commands significant support, little can explain why virtually the entire town in southern Tamil Nadu poured on to the streets.
Particularly since post-Karur, there are serious concerns about an untoward incident occurring if things go out of hand. In September last year, 41 people died in a stampede during a Vijay rally in Karur town.
When popular Telugu actor NTR Junior campaigned for the Telugu Desam in the 2009 elections in Andhra Pradesh, the then Chief Minister YS Rajasekhara Reddy had dismissed the crowds he attracted as a ”fan crowd”. They are happy that the star they get to see only on the big screen after paying for the ticket, is available at a distance of a few feet for free, he had told me. The results of 2009 proved him right. The crowds for NTR Junior did not exactly translate into votes for the TDP.
But a popular star canvassing for votes for another political party is different from asking votes for his own outfit and presenting himself as an alternative. That makes the Vijay spectacle hard to ignore. What’s more, unlike the traditional parties in India, including in Tamil Nadu, who mobilise paid crowds by luring them with cash and promise of biryani and sometimes liquor, the mass of humanity in Thoothukudi seemed largely organic. Almost as if the port town, home to a massive blue-collar workforce, wanted to extend a grand welcome to a guest. It is as if Thoothukudi was on a mission to deliver a message.
It is not as if AIADMK’s Edappadi Palaniswami or the Stalins of the DMK are not attracting crowds. But there is a marked difference. The crowds listening to these leaders listen carefully, assessing them by what they delivered in the past and what they are promising now. The crowds for Vijay are mostly youth on motorbikes, often travelling from neighbouring rural pockets, pooling in money for fuel, enduring the 40 degrees of heat and humidity. They are not questioning Vijay but blindly believing when he promises change.
Admittedly, part of this is because of the screen image Vijay enjoys, which makes him trustworthy in the eyes of the film-crazy public. They are emotionally invested in the Vijay phenomenon and that is something few pollsters can pick up with a formatted questionnaire. The worry for the other parties would be that this kind of crowd is more likely to turn into vocal evangelists who will in turn influence people in their homes and neighbourhood.
Old-timers have compared the crowds to the kind MG Ramachandran attracted in 1977 when he swept the state to defeat the DMK to become the chief minister for the first time. But then MGR still had the support of some seasoned politicians who had walked out with him from the DMK. Moreover, he had five years to build the AIADMK from 1972. Vijay’s Tamilaga Vettri Kazhagam (TVK) is comparatively thin on political experience.
But then we are living in the times of a Vaibhav Suryavanshi where audacity is the grammar of young blood. The DMK, AIADMK, Congress, and the BJP are legacy parties, but the ‘Maatrum’ (change) obsessed young electorate by this kind of showing, wants to convey that anyone on his day can own the Power Play. Even an electoral debutant like Vijay.
But for an MGR, there was also a Sivaji Ganesan whose cinematic stature and the massive crowds he attracted failed to translate into a single electoral victory. That is the sobering counter-narrative to the Thoothukudi euphoria. In 1989, Sivaji Ganesan’s Thamizhaga Munnetra Munnani lost all the 49 seats it contested, including Tiruvaiyaru where the legendary actor fought from. Ganesan, who was a master in enacting tragic scenes, could not fathom the tragic gap between the admiration he received and the votes he did not get. People thronged to see him perform live but did not trust him with their votes.
So what is the lesson for Vijay? Many of those who converged in Thoothukudi and Tirunvelveli on Wednesday or at Perambur and Trichy before that are Vijay fans. But on D-Day on April 23, the TVK needs cadre and booth agents to ensure the fan becomes a voter punching for the whistle. The crowds have scored big on chemistry, but the election will be won on arithmetic.
The other important aspect to bear in mind is that the welfarism extended by the Stalin government or the AIADMK government before that, are strong pressure points on the voter’s mind. People may travel 50 km to see a Superstar, but they could also switch to beneficiary mode inside the polling booth. Particularly in a state like Tamil Nadu used to the freebie culture.
What is certain, however, is that TVK is a disruptor. The next fortnight will decide if Vijay will be a serious contender for power or emerge as a kingmaker in a hung assembly or flatter to deceive to end up as an also-ran, like Vijaykanth and Kamal Haasan before him. If he is to make it to Fort St George, he will have to make his presence felt on the ground with public meetings and roadshows, press the accelerator on the digital presence while ensuring the TVK foot soldiers take the message to every household. Anything less than 25 percent vote share would leave him with only a handful of seats and there is no guarantee that all the TVK legislators would stay faithful to the person who got them elected.
One of the popular stunts his gushing fans are doing on his roadshows is to throw a bottle of an aerated drink towards Vijay standing on his van, for him to pull off a stunning catch. This is the kind of slo-mo stuff set to foot-tapping music that is garnering likes on Instagram reels. Vijay would hope this does not end up as a metaphor for all fizz, no substance.
(Views expressed in this opinion piece are those of the author.)
