The 1960s were a time of student uprisings across the world. Militant socialist students in Europe, especially in France and West Germany, staged protests with the aim of bringing about revolutions in their countries. Anti-war students and “hippies” in the US opposed the military intervention in Vietnam. There were student movements against undemocratic regimes in Latin America and in countries of the former Soviet bloc as well. While all these protests made for spectacular news, and are duly commemorated every year, only a few of them resulted in a concrete political change. The anti-Hindi agitations in Tamil Nadu of the 1960s are one such exception.

Led predominantly by students, the anti-Hindi agitations contributed to unseating the ruling Congress and bringing the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) to power in 1967. Ever since, only Dravidian parties have formed the government in Tamil Nadu.

Also Read | How Dravidian politics offers a bulwark against the exclusionary politics of Hindutva

While the Dravidian Movement, its leaders and parties, its policies and governance have all received significant academic attention, there is not much work dedicated to the anti-Hindi agitations—which marked a decisive turning point in Tamil Nadu’s politics—apart from articles by the scholars Robert L. Hardgrave, Jr, and Duncan B. Forrester. R. Vijaya Sankar’s timely translation of Hindi Imperialism, whose author, Aladi Aruna, was an active participant in the anti-Hindi agitations and later became an important leader in the DMK, should kindle interest in this crucial political movement of modern Tamil Nadu among a wider audience. Not only is Hindi Imperialism a document of a turbulent time authored by a participant-observer, it also speaks to the political issues of our times.

Aruna asserts proudly: “Dravidians and Bengalis are the only people in the world who created a revolution to protect their mother tongue.” There has been a strong Tamil cultural-nationalist sentiment since the dawn of modernity in colonial Madras, accompanied by opposition to “Aryan” Sanskrit. Several Tamil intellectuals counterposed imagined egalitarian Tamil pasts against what they saw as a hierarchal north Indian-Sanskrit-Aryan culture. Hindi was seen as the tongue of Aryan domination over the South.

The Anti-Hindi ‘Revolution’

The anti-Hindi mood got sharpened when C. Rajagopalachari (popularly known as Rajaji), the then Premier of the Madras presidency, made Hindi a compulsory subject in 1937. This was opposed by several Tamil political leaders and social reformers. The protests saw the participation of people across caste and religious divides and was noted for the active involvement of women. The protesters Natarajan and Thalamuthu died in custody and instantly became martyrs of the resistance. “Periyar” E.V. Ramasamy, who was already an established leader by then, played a prominent role in these protests.

This period saw his reach grow wider with the entry of a new crop of militant and articulate youths, chief among whom was C.N. Annadurai. Meanwhile, a student, Muthuvel Karunanidhi, neglected his schooling to take part in the anti-Hindi agitations. Arrests failed to contain the uprising, and in 1940, Hindi as a compulsory subject was withdrawn—only to be reinstated soon after Independence.

When Annadurai broke from Periyar to form the DMK, most of the young Dravidianists who left with him had already proven their mettle as capable organisers and leaders. From 1949 to 1967, the DMK was uncompromising on Tamil assertion, federalism, and opposition to “Hindi imperialism”. Although there were other leaders and outfits fighting for Tamil rights, the DMK became the vanguard of the anti-Hindi protests in this period.

It is worth remembering that the 16th Amendment to the Constitution, which prohibits advocacy of separatism, was designed in response to the DMK. Aruna captures the key role played by these protests in shaping the Official Languages Act of 1963, which allowed for the continuation of English along with Hindi instead of Hindi as the sole official language as was originally planned. Further, the 1968 language resolution made it incumbent on the Indian state to protect and contribute to the languages in the Eighth Schedule. On coming to power, the DMK brought a two-language formula (Tamil and English) to the State, which has since been guarded by the different Dravidian Chief Ministers.

Interestingly, Rajaji, against whom the original anti-Hindi agitations were waged, himself opposed Hindi imposition in the 1950s and became a DMK ally in the 1960s. On the other hand, Periyar took a thoroughly anti-DMK position in the wake of the 1960s agitations; in some instances, he called for a ban on the party and, in others, for force to be used against the protesters who damaged public property. In Aruna’s partisan and linear narrative, such uncomfortable aspects of the history of Dravidian politics figure minimally.

There is a tendency among many Dravidianists today to view Dravidian politics as a seamless teleology from Periyar to M.K. Stalin via Annadurai and Karunanidhi. History does not attest to that. From the point that Annadurai separated from him and until he became the first Dravidian Chief Minister, Periyar treated the DMK as enemy number one and missed no opportunity to mock its politics. It is a testament to the political sagacity of Annadurai that not only did he trounce the powerful Congress and much-loved leaders like Kamaraj, but he also effectively navigated around the attacks by his mentor. And all this despite hailing from a non-elite background, with no inherited socio-economic or political clout.

DMK Chronicles

R. Kannan recounts the glorious days of Dravidian pasts and also dares to visit its grimy corners in his fact-by-fact account in The DMK Years: Ascent, Descent, Survival. The book can be seen as part of a “Dravidian trilogy”, preceded by Kannan’s biographies on Annadurai and M.G. Ramachandran (MGR).

In The DMK Years, Kannan attempts a biography of the DMK party and concurrently provides a panoramic view of Tamil politics post-Independence. He has used an impressive array of primary sources to build his narrative on how the DMK grew from a splinter of the Dravidar Kazhagam (DK) to become a dominant political power in Tamil Nadu. The massive anti-Hindi agitations of the 1960s catapulted the DMK to prominence. But more was at work. The party used grassroots organising, literature, street theatre, agitprop, and of course, cinema to reach to a wide public. The key DMK leaders were great speakers who could command the attention of their audiences, and they also published papers to propagate their views.

Annadurai, like Lenin, recognised the power of cinema as a pedagogic tool. Dravidian cinema produced no Eisenstein or Vertov, who brought innovative techniques to the art. Instead, it was boosted by writers and poets whose dialogues and songs containing explicit or coded pro-Dravidian messages were lapped up by the public. It also invested in and benefited from the stardom of N.S. Krishnan, Sivaji Ganesan, and the charismatic MGR, who attained the status of a demigod as film hero and politician. It must be noted here that Periyar was opposed to cinema and the DMK’s use of the medium.

Annadurai’s DMK wove a rainbow coalition by roping in the conservative Swatantra Party and the CPI(M). Although these parties had been bitterly opposed to the DMK earlier, they were brought together by a set of common, broadly progressive demands against a powerful adversary in the Congress; the post-Marxist theorists Ernesto Laclau and Chantal Mouffe would theorise about similar populist strategies much later. The DMK took from the DK a commitment to social justice measures; its firm pro-reservations stand earned the DMK the support of the OBCs and the SCs in Tamil Nadu. Kannan notes that after the DMK took power, “backward, Dalit and rural representation began to grow in government services”.

The DMK Years is not an academic book—Kannan candidly admits as much in his introduction—but it is a book that academics working on Tamil politics cannot ignore, simply because there is no other book in English that captures the story of the DMK from its formation until the present. The DMK suffered four major splits: from E.V.K. Sampath (1961), MGR (1972), V.R. Nedunchezhiyan (1977), and Vaiko (1994). All four were critical of Karunanidhi’s role in the DMK. It could be a coincidence that all these four leaders were from upwardly mobile non-Brahmin castes, while Karunanidhi hailed from a marginal one. MGR’s All India Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK), when it captured power in 1977, kept the DMK in opposition until 1989. MGR’s split dealt a body blow to the DMK, but what it also did was push the non-DMK opposition in Tamil Nadu to the margins.

The DMK’s alliances with the parties that formed the government at the Centre were dictated by a combination of principles, tactical compromise, and opportunism. The DMK’s oppositional role during the Emergency has been glorified by its supporters for good reason. But Kannan also draws attention to how this was not straightforward. Karunanidhi was not above using the Maintenance of Internal Security Act to arrest his opponents; he was also eager to prove his patriotic credentials. Yet, he provided sanctuary to political dissidents from other parts of India.

There was an apprehension of centralisation and unbridled repression that compelled him to voice his opposition to the Emergency, leading to his government’s dismissal in 1976. Many DMK leaders were arrested. Stalin was beaten up brutally in jail, and Chittibabu, former Mayor of Chennai, succumbed to his injuries following torture.

In 1977, the DMK aligned with the Janata Party (JP) to defeat the Congress. Soon after, the DMK walked out of the JP alliance and offered its support to Indira Gandhi in 1980, claiming that she alone was capable of providing stable rule. On her part, Indira Gandhi forgot her past fabulous accusations of the DMK’s secessionism, corruption, and its plots to hurt her and vaunted the party as an ally.

This is not a trait of the DMK alone, though. The AIADMK aligned with the Congress in the general election of 1977 and got a thumping victory in the State. In the State Assembly election that year, it was supported by the CPI(M) that turned a blind eye to the alliance between the AIADMK and the party that declared the Emergency. When Morarji Desai became Prime Minister, MGR promptly cosied up to him. In 1980, MGR discovered that the Congress was undemocratic.

The Dravidian parties were similarly flexible in aligning with the BJP. Jayalalithaa’s AIADMK supported the Hindutva party in 1998, not because of any commitment to its principles but, as Kannan claims, because she wanted serious corruption charges against her withdrawn and Karunanidhi’s government dismissed. When this did not happen, she withdrew support. The DMK then backed the BJP because it felt at that time that Jayalalithaa’s corruption was worse than the BJP’s communalism. This uneasy alliance, too, did not last. Other parties in the State, whether centrist, caste-based, Dalit, or leftist, have done similar flip-flops in aligning with the DMK or the AIADMK.

Irrespective of their alliances at the Centre, the Dravidian parties compete with each other on protecting federalism, defending reservations, promoting Tamil rights, and delivering on populist welfare schemes. However, Kannan indicates that in cases of conflict between labour and capital, whichever Dravidian party is in power errs on the side of capital. Both the DMK and the AIADMK are pro-investors. Critics in Tamil Nadu, depending on their political affiliations, tend to focus on the errors of one party while minimising those of the other. Thankfully, Kannan brings that much-maligned word, objectivity, to the table.

The DMK Years was released in September to coincide with the 75th anniversary of the DMK’s founding. But one cannot avoid the feeling that the book was published in a hurry. The copyeditors could have taken more care to avoid errors, some of which are quite glaring. For instance, a subheading on page 5 on “Non-Brahmin Identity and Assertion” has nothing on this theme but instead has trivia on Karunanidhi’s naming of M.K. Stalin and on the number of his Facebook followers. The author claims on page 98 that the “Congress never missed an opportunity to advocate cultural nationalist issues” and follows on page 99 about “Congress’s deep-seated indifference to cultural nationalism”, alleging that it bungled on this front. A table about the 1980 parliamentary election on page 252 shows the DMK as having contested in 16 seats and winning in 48. The index has jumbled up Pasumpon Muthuramalinga Thevar with Pon. Muthuramalingam.

Also Read | DMK at 75: How Karunanidhi’s vision collides with caste realities in modern Dravidian politics

However, both books present valuable information on Dravidian politics. Kannan notes that with the demise of Jayalalithaa and Karunanidhi, the time of mass leaders is over. Stalin’s regime banks more on performance than on personality as the current DMK tries to protect the political and socio-economic achievements of past governments even as it tries to build more effective policies. But it faces vociferous challengers. Currently, the BJP and the Tamil nativist outfit the Naam Tamilar Katchi seek to discredit the whole of the Dravidian movement and overthrow Dravidian rule.

The popular Tamil actor Vijay recently floated the Tamilaga Vettri Kazhagam but does not seem to propose an alternative to Dravidian politics, rather a continuation of it. At the first conference of his party, he declared Periyar as his leader, said that Dravidianism and Tamil nationalism are like his two eyes, and spoke strongly in favour of State autonomy, Tamil rights, and social justice, all part of the Dravidian vocabulary. His party’s flag anthem positions him along with Annadurai and MGR. If he grows, he is likely to take away the non-DMK votes.

While the DMK is criticised by allies for its handling of labour issues, such as the recent Samsung workers’ strike, there is recognition of its value for secular politics at the local and national levels. Principled support and criticism from the Left can guide it to follow reasonable pro-labour policies. The ghosts of Dravidian pasts hold much lessons for Dravidian futures. 

Karthick Ram Manoharan is Assistant Professor of Social Sciences at the National Law School of India University, Bengaluru. He is the author of Periyar: A Study in Political Atheism (Orient BlackSwan, 2022).

The year-long celebration of the birth centenary of the late Kalaignar M. Karunanidhi, former Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) chief and five-time Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu, which concluded a few months ago, has left his party, which also celebrates its 75th anniversary this year, in a jubilant mood. Kalaignar (the moniker means a “scholar of the arts”), who is known for his scholarship, political acumen, and remarkable courage, has left an indelible mark on Tamil Nadu’s political landscape. Despite facing three major splits during his leadership, he managed to keep the DMK united until his death.

When Karunanidhi passed away, many wondered whether the party, without its towering leader, could maintain unity in the face of internal divisions. Yet, in contrast to the fractured state of its rival, the All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK), which splintered into three factions, the DMK has emerged stronger than ever. Under the leadership of M.K. Stalin, Karunanidhi’s son, the party remains a formidable political force now.

After breaking away from the Dravidar Kazhagam in 1949 on the question of participation in electoral politics, C.N. Annadurai (fondly referred to as Arignar [scholar] Anna) and his ideological heir Karunanidhi pursued their political career through the DMK. As scriptwriters, both Annadurai and Karunanidhi could propagate the party’s ideology through Tamil cinema. Both were adept in using aphorisms and asides in public discourses. With their main thrust on Tamil language and culture, they cast a spell on their audiences with their oratorical skill, which went a long way in helping the party emerge as an aggressive political organisation that could challenge the well-entrenched Congress party in the 1960s.

The Congress’ blunders—such as Rajaji’s unpopular educational scheme, which the DMK dubbed kula kalvi thittam, (hereditary education scheme); the political repression the government unleashed on DMK cadres when they agitated against the rising price of foodgrains in the State; and the disastrous announcement of Hindi as the official language (1965)—strongly boosted the political prospects of the DMK. But a critical analysis shows that these factors alone did not catapult the DMK to power.

The vision of social justice and welfare

At a time when the State was reeling under a severe shortage of foodgrains, the election manifesto drafted by Annadurai targeted a wider section of people. Correctly sensing that their real competitor was the CPI after its striking performance in the 1952 election, both Annadurai and Karunanidhi expanded the DMK’s manifesto to include land ceiling and nationalisation of transport services, which were then part of the CPI’s programme. Speaking in the Assembly on the Budget in 1962, Karunanidhi presented a powerful case for the takeover of private bus companies. One of his first administrative actions on assuming office as Chief Minister was to give effect to it in 1972.

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With the premature passing of Anna in 1969, Karunanidhi, who enjoyed popular support among cadres, managed to steer clear of all inner-party wrangles and successfully took over the party. His commitment to create a welfare-oriented government fetched rich political dividends. He introduced subsidised power for farmers and strengthened the public distribution system by making available domestic essentials such as rice, kerosene, and sugar at subsidised rates in government-run fair-price shops. His expanded welfare schemes included housing for slum-dwellers, pattas and free land to landless Dalits, and access to higher studies for the marginalised and poor sections of the society.

A series of progressive social laws introduced by his government fulfilled many of the aspirations championed by E.V.R. Periyar. These reforms granted equal property rights to women, recognised inter-caste marriages, institutionalised self-respect marriages, and appointed Scheduled Castes (SCs) as temple priests. Following the landmark Supreme Court judgment in the Champakam Dorairajan case (1951), which upheld the state’s authority to implement reservation policies in education and government jobs, Karunanidhi, a staunch advocate of social justice, acted decisively.

His government set reservation quotas based on the recommendations of the A.N. Sattanathan Commission: 31 per cent for Backward Classes (BCs) and 18 per cent for SCs and Scheduled Tribes (STs). In response to a 1990 Madras High Court judgment, Karunanidhi introduced an exclusive 1 per cent reservation for STs. His commitment to social justice also played a pivotal role in extending significant benefits to marginalised communities such as the Vanniyars and Mukkulathors. After widespread agitations led by Dr Ramadoss of the Pattali Makkal Katchi (PMK), his government granted a 20 per cent reservation for Most Backward Classes (MBCs) and Denotified Communities (DNCs).

The fierce electoral rivalry between the DMK and its breakaway rival, the AIADMK, eventually resulted in 69 per cent caste-based reservation for Other Backward Classes in Tamil Nadu. Thanks to Karunanidhi’s vision, Muslims and Arunthathiyars were granted inner reservation of 3.5 per cent and 3 per cent, respectively, Muslims within BC and Arunthathiyars within SC.

“Landlordism” in Tamil Nadu

But how have the Dravidian parties fared in addressing the socio-economic problems of people who are at the bottom of society? Dravidian ideologues claim that landlordism declined in Tamil Nadu because of Periyar’s Dravidar Kazhagam and land tenure measures adopted by the DMK government under Karunanidhi, downplaying the decisive role of the Congress and the CPI.¹ In fact, the idea of tenancy reform was first articulated in the context of the agrarian crisis of the 1930s caused by the worldwide economic depression. With a 50 per cent fall in the price of agricultural produce, rich peasants and landlords were fighting for tax remissions in the Legislative Council, while tenants and landless labourers were left with no choice but to take to the streets to press their demands.

With increasing instances of default, the zamindars resorted to force to collect rent. The tenants resisted, and there were widespread incidents of zamin officials getting assaulted in several zamins of Thanjavur, Ramanathapuram, Tiruchirappalli, and Tirunelveli districts² as they engaged in rent collection. In view of the colonial government’s indifference to the tenants’ demands for fair rent and security of tenure, some Congressmen who led the tenant struggles in zamin tracts demanded abolition of the zamindari system, which was eventually accomplished after Independence.

During this period of Depression, agricultural labourers struck work across the districts. In several villages, the mirasidars complained that they were not able to extract work from Pannaiyals³ (bonded labourers). For instance, in Palayam village, Nannilam taluk (Thanjavur district), both tenants and agricultural labourers rose in rebellion (1939) against the mirasidar who hired hoodlums to intimidate them. A police sub-inspector, at the insistence of the mirasidar, went to the Dalit quarters along with two constables to put the residents under detention.⁴ In Ramanathapuram district, the conflict between two agrarian castes of Thevars (tenants) and Devendra Kula Vellalars (landless labourers) led to riots.⁵

B. Srinivasa Rao and Manali Kandasamy of the Communist Party launched the Vivasaya Thozhilalar Sangam (Agricultural Labourers Association) in Thanjavur in 1939. In Thanjavur district, there were traditions of joint struggle by sharecroppers and agricultural labourers in the 1930s.⁶ As attested by the sociologist Saraswathi Menon, this tradition continued even in the 1940s with the setting up of All India Kisan Sabha branches in several taluks from 1943. Menon observed that the abysmal living conditions of innumerable sharecroppers were similar to the wretched plight of the pannaiyals.⁷

Struggles of the Dalits as a land labouring class

The peasant movement became militant in the face of post-war inflation and the attendant erosion in real wages and increase in rents. Alarmed by the developments taking place in the context of the Telangana peasant struggle since 1946, the Congress government outlawed the CPI and its Kisan Sabhas (Vivasayigal Sangams). In Thanjavur, the peasant leaders were arrested and their offices sealed. Kuppusamy, a member of the CPI of Kalappal, was sentenced to imprisonment. Following his death in jail, there were violent incidents in many parts of East Thanjavur. The police had to resort to firing (April 1948) to quell the violence. In the process, one of the union leaders—Natesan—was killed.⁸

The prolonged struggles of cultivating tenants and agricultural labourers, however, led to the signing of the historic Mayavaram Agreement on October 28, 1948, “the settlement of which was satisfactory to all concerned”.⁹ This settlement, according to the anthropologist Kathleen Gough, paved the way for the Thanjavur Tenants’ and Pannaiyals’ Ordinance of 1952 that set the rents of the cultivating tenant at three-fifths of the crop and increased agricultural wages by about two-thirds.^x Gough did a field study in Thanjavur villages (Kumbapettai and Kirippur)¹¹ first in 1951-53 and later in 1976.

What Dalits as a land labouring class gained under the communist leadership is detailed by Gough as follows: The Vivasaya Thozhilalar Sangam had 200 members at the time of its inception (1939). It increased to 45,000 in 1973. In 1951, almost all Dalit children worked as agricultural child labourers. However, when Gough returned, she observed a significant decline in child labour and an increase in the number of Dalit children enrolled in school in every village. The wages prevalent in the early 1970s were considered to be the highest in East Thanjavur, and hence, when the Tamil Nadu government appointed a committee for the revision of minimum wages for agricultural workers, it excluded the region from the committee’s purview.¹²

In 1952, pannaiyals in many villages could be beaten for alleged “defiance and misdemeanour”. In 1976, it had become rare to see a master beating his pannaiyal. In 1952, recalcitrant pannaiyals were forced to drink a solution of cow dung. By 1976, this odious practice had disappeared.¹³ There was gradual disappearance of the pannai adimai system.¹⁴ Since 1952, the public amenities available to Dalit labourers had improved. Most areas had well-built roads, electric street lights, and newly dug wells instead of pools for drinking water. The caste restrictions imposed on Dalit labourers had “considerably reduced”. They could walk freely in the streets and wear shirts and ankle-length clothing (instead of just a knee-length garment earlier).¹⁵

The struggles of Dalits spearheaded by the communist parties helped end social oppression. Gough attributed the ceiling imposed on land ownership at 30 standard acres in 1961 and 15 standard acres in 1972 to the heroic struggles and sacrifices of the Dalit land labourers. But the government’s poor implementation of tenancy legislation and land ceiling laws in 1961 and 1972  enabled landlords to circumvent them through large-scale benami transactions in connivance with the bureaucracy. Even the meagre surplus land made available for redistribution to the landless agricultural labourers was not suitable for cultivation. The absentee landlords evaded the legislation by selling land to their tenants at a throwaway price. The beneficiaries of land reforms were, therefore, the tenants: Kallars in Thanjavur, Mukkulathor in south Tamil Nadu, and Vanniyars¹⁶ in north Tamil Nadu. Many political analysts are of the view that the domination of Dravidian parties in electoral politics has become possible only due to their alliance with these powerful caste groups, to the detriment of the interests of Dalits.

The numerical preponderance of Brahmins in landownership is indisputable. But there was also a sizeable number of landlords belonging to the Mudaliyar, Moopanar, Vellalar, Naidu, Udaiyar, and Kallar communities. Before the enforcement of the land ceiling Act, in the central part of the district where landlordism was dominant, Brahmin landlords possessed between 1,200 to 2,000 acres, while non-Brahmin landlords had land to the extent of 15,000 acres.¹⁷

When the sociologist André Beteille visited Sripuram (Thanjavur district) in 1962, a village chosen for his study, he found that temples, gram panchayats, and cooperative societies once controlled by Brahmins were under the control of the non-Brahmin landed gentry. In Sripuram, Beteille noticed a Kallar leader functioning as president of the local gram panchayat. Beteille wrote that although Vellalars and Kallars were in equal numbers, the latter dominated the village politics in view of their numerical strength in the adjoining villages.¹⁸ In 1976, even after land reforms had been executed in two spells, Gough found many families owning 100 or more acres of land. She also came across three family estates with more than 3,000 acres and several more with about 500 acres. These landlords, through benami transactions, had registered lands in the name of their tenants or labourers.¹⁹

Caste and “confrontation” politics

Whether it was Congress rule or the rule of the Dravidian parties, the struggles—both on class or caste lines—continued to be treated as a law-and-order problem. Like the AIADMK in 1995, the DMK was discomfited by the outbreak of caste violence in south Tamil Nadu in 1997. Karunanidhi, treating it as a law-and-order issue, established the southern zone Inspector General office in Madurai. Sociologists point out that wherever people live under unjust social conditions and are therefore deprived of the chance to realise their full potential, structural violence is inevitable.

The Justice Party, the precursor of the Dravidian movement, proclaimed itself as a non-Brahmin Party. Non-Brahmin is not a homogenous group. In the context of Tamil Nadu, those in the forefront of Justicite politics were elites drawn from communities such as Mudaliars, Chettiyars, and Vellalars, who patently belonged to the upper strata of the non-Brahmin group. The party hardly represented larger social groups such as the Vanniars, Nadars, and Mukulathors (Thevars). So, the Communal GOs of 1921 and 1922, over which the Dravidian parties take pride today, were helpful only to the elites of the minority non-Brahmin strata.

In 1969, nearly after four-and-a-half decades of the introduction of the reservation policy, the A.N. Sattanathan Commission, set up by the Karunanidhi government, found “nearly 70 per cent of the population of the cultivating castes i.e., Padayachi, Kallar and Maravar… more than half the Kaikola population and smaller castes including barbers and washermen, living in conditions of abject squalor and under conditions hardly distinguishable from those prevailing amongst the Scheduled Castes before Independence”.

After another 20 years, the Ambasankar Commission in its report (1983) pointed out that of the total number of BC students admitted to professional courses, more than three-fourths were from a small number of BCs (34 out of 222).²⁰

In the wake of the Vanniyar agitation spearheaded by the PMK of Dr Ramadoss, Karunanidhi introduced 20 per cent reservation for MBC-DNC. Vanniyars, as reported in The Hindu recently, have since cornered a major part of the seats in the MBBS course.²¹

Whether they belong to BC or SC, a large number of caste subgroups still feel left out, as the State’s reservation policy has resulted in an uneven distribution of the originally intended benefits.

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Dr Ramadoss’ success with caste-based mobilisation soon prompted all main caste groups to have political outfits. The New Justice Party (Mudaliyar), the Kongunadu Makkal Katchi (Gounder), the Puthiya Makkal Tamil Thesam Katchi (Yadavas), and the Samathuva Makkal Katchi (Nadar) are notable examples. Failed by the mainstream political parties, Dalit people have rallied behind their caste leaders under the banner of parties such as the Dalit Panther Party, the Tamilaga Makkal Munnetra Kazhagam, Puthiya Tamilakam, and the Aathi Tamizhar Peravai.

With lower representation for socially deprived communities in seats of power and the denial of their rightful claim to equal treatment in state patronage, Dalit parties find themselves increasingly uncomfortable with their alliance partners. Their feelings of despair are further fuelled by the continuing caste atrocities on Dalits by intermediate castes. Inter-caste animosities rising out of institutional power sharing have intensified “confrontation politics” in Tamil Nadu, which may soon drive the State into a crisis of governability.

It remains to be seen whether the government under Stalin can address these structural challenges, especially considering that the State aspires to be a model of social justice governance. 

K.A. Manikumar is a retired Professor of History at Manonmaniam Sundaranar University, Tirunelveli.

Notes and References

1 Jeyaranjan, J. (2018): “Decline of Landlordism”, Frontline, August 21, 51-58.

2 For details read, Manikumar, K.A. (2003): A Colonial Economy in the Great Depression: Madras, 1929-37, Chennai: Orient Longman, 171-172.

3 Thomas, P.J. and K.C. Ramakrishnan, South Indian Villages: A Resurvey, University of Madras, 1937, 141.

4 G.O. 4030 Home 24, July 1939. Quoted in Manikumar, K.A., A Colonial Economy in the Great Depression, 175.

5 Manikumar, K.A., A Colonial Economy in the Great Depression, 173-175.

6 Ibid., 173-175.

7 Menon, Saraswathi (1979): “Historical Development of Thanjavur Kisan Movement: Interplay of Class and Caste Factors”, Economic & Political Weekly, Annual Number, 403-408. 

8 Alexander, K.C. (1978): Agricultural Labour Unions: A Study in Three South Indian States, Hyderabad, 26.

9 The terms of agreement included fixation of daily wage of pannaiyals at one Marakkal and women labourers at 3/4th Marakkal and regularisation of normative functions of the pannaiyals. See Alexander, K.C.: Agricultural Labour Unions, 27.

10 Gough, Kathleen (1983): “Agricultural Labour in Thanjavur”, Social Anthropology of Peasantry, John P. Mencher (ed.). Bombay: Somaya Publication, 284.

11 Kumbapettai and Kirippur are fictitious names, the former in the western part of Thanjavur and the latter situated 3 miles away from Palakurichi.

12 Gough, Kathleen: “Agricultural Labour in Thanjavur”, p. 276.

13 Ibid., 286.

14 Ibid., 218. 

15 Gough, Kathleen (1981): “Agrarian Change in Thanjavur”, Kerala and Madras: A Comparative Study of Ecology and Social Structure, John P. Mencher, Trivandrum, pp. 15-30.

16 Until the Dalit Panther Party emerged as a strong political force. 

17 Ibid.

18 Beteille, André (1996): Caste, Class and Power: Changing Patterns of Stratification in a Tanjore Village, Oxford University Press. 

19 Gough, Kathleen: “Agrarian Change in Thanjavur”, 287.

20 Manikumar, K.A. (2021): “Reservations Then and Now”, Frontline, December 17, 70-74.

21 Ramakrishnan, T. (2024): The Hindu, August 4.