The upcoming Assembly elections in Tamil Nadu present a notable trend: major political parties including the AIADMK, DMK, Congress, and even the BJP have not nominated any Brahmin candidates. This is particularly striking in a state where anti-Brahmin sentiment has been a significant aspect of its political history, despite Brahmins still playing a role in various influential sectors of society.
Rather than disappearing, Brahmins have shifted from being visible candidates to operating behind the scenes, moving from the forefront of politics to positions of control and influence. This situation seems to be a continuation of a long-standing political evolution rather than a sudden change.
In the book “Brahmin and Non-Brahmin: Genealogies of the Tamil Political Present,” M S S Pandian references the 1916 Non-Brahmin Manifesto, which cautioned that early self-rule could lead to Brahmin dominance. Pandian notes that Brahmins comprised only around 3% of the population but were highly prominent in colonial administration, professional fields, and among Congress leaders. Their small demographic presence belied their substantial institutional influence.
S Narayan’s “The Dravidian Years” offers statistical insights into this disparity. He highlights that Brahmins represented less than 3% of the population while maintaining a significant grip on education and government positions. Between 1892 and 1904, a staggering 15 out of 16 Indians chosen for the Indian Civil Service from the Madras Presidency were Brahmins, as were 21 out of 27 selected engineers. Narayan emphasizes that proficiency in English served as a gateway to power and privilege in colonial Madras.
This situation not only fostered resentment but also catalyzed the emergence of a distinct political identity. Pandian illustrates that the label “non-Brahmin” was not inherently cohesive; it required affirmation and political mobilization to become a recognized force. Over time, this identity became entrenched in Tamil Nadu’s political landscape. By the 1950s, leadership within the Congress party transitioned from Brahmin to non-Brahmin figures, and by 1954, Madras became the first state with no Brahmins in its ministry under K Kamaraj’s leadership. By the 1970s, both ruling and opposition parties claimed allegiance to non-Brahmin interests, signifying a fundamental shift in political legitimacy.
Robert L Hardgrave’s “The Dravidian Movement,” later echoed by Narayan, frames this political transformation as a response to longstanding social grievances, linguistic pride, and anti-hierarchical sentiments, evolving into a robust mass political movement. Pandian asserts that the Self-Respect Movement effectively positioned the Brahmin as a symbol of various social inequalities and forms of oppression. In Tamil Nadu, anti-Brahminism transcended mere rhetoric, becoming ingrained in the common understanding.
In this context, the candidate lists for the elections appear to be a minor detail in a larger historical narrative. The AIADMK, which historically included Brahmin candidates during the tenures of leaders like MGR and Jayalalithaa, has for the first time in 35 years presented a slate devoid of Brahmin representation. In contrast, Vijay’s TVK has nominated two Brahmin candidates, while Seeman’s Naam Tamilar Katchi has fielded six candidates in constituencies like Mylapore and Srirangam, where Brahmin voters hold both numerical and symbolic significance. This suggests that smaller or newer political entities are willing to take risks that established parties have chosen to avoid.
This situation raises a critical question, particularly for the BJP. Ramu Manivannan, a former political science professor at the University of Madras, highlights the importance of the BJP’s lack of Brahmin candidates. He argues that the party, more than others, needs to address this omission. While Brahmin leaders within the BJP seek influence and decision-making power, they appear hesitant to stand for election.
Despite having prominent Brahmin figures such as S Gurumurthy and Narayanan Thirupathy within its ranks, the BJP has not fielded any Brahmin candidates. Manivannan questions this contradiction, suggesting that while Brahmin leaders prefer to shape the political landscape from behind the scenes, they leave the electoral contests to others.
Jayalalithaa stands out as a notable exception in this narrative. Katherine Young, in “Turbulent Transformations,” identifies her as a Tamil Śrīvaiṣṇava Vaṭakalai Brahmin. However, Jayalalithaa did not re-establish Brahmin politics as central to Tamil Nadu’s ideological framework. She maintained a low profile regarding her identity and succeeded as a populist leader, building a welfare-focused, cross-caste support base within a political environment already transformed by backward-class assertions, social justice discourses, and Dravidian ideologies.
Narayan’s analysis sheds light on why Jayalalithaa did not work to restore Brahmins’ political prominence. The Dravidian movement extended beyond mere rhetoric against upper-caste supremacy; it translated social ideologies into governance, welfare policies, and a restructuring of public opportunities. Narayan contends that Tamil Nadu exemplified the empowerment of backward classes, with administrative and political structures evolving away from the dominance of forward communities. The political contest has increasingly shifted from Brahmin versus non-Brahmin to competition among various powerful OBC and dominant-caste groups.
Within Dravidian parties, new social groups have gained significant influence due to their closeness to power. During Jayalalithaa’s leadership, the AIADMK saw a marked concentration of power among Thevars, largely due to the influence of her close associate V K Sasikala. After her passing, there was a notable shift toward Gounders, another politically and economically significant backward community. This caste-based strategy was not incidental to the party’s success in the 2016 elections; it was integral to its electoral strategy.
