Who's afraid of Vijay?

Vijay's rise in Tamil Nadu politics has unsettled the state's established players. His emergence has raised questions about alliances, succession and whether fan power can become durable governance.

In Short

• Tamil Nadu's cinema-politics tradition has again reshaped the state's power equations
• Governor Arlekar's insistence on support letters sparked questions over constitutional convention
• AIADMK's leadership drift and DMK's incumbency burdens have widened Vijay's opening

There are moments when a journalist likes to say, "I told you so." The ascent of Thalapathy Vijay as Tamil Nadu chief minister is one such. I remember about three weeks ago on straight bat, titling the video blog: "Beware the Vijay factor" and suggesting that the star-turned-neta could be either king or kingmaker. But even I wasn’t sure just how successful Vijay would be.

You see, Tamil Nadu politics has always had a cinematic quality to it. In few places in the world has the journey from silver screen to political power been so seamless.

From C N Annadurai to M G Ramachandran, from J Jayalalithaa to M Karunanidhi, Tamil Nadu has repeatedly shown that cinema here is not merely entertainment. It is emotion, identity and political mobilisation rolled into one.

And yet, even by Tamil Nadu’s extraordinary standards, the rise of C Joseph Vijay has triggered a level of nervousness that is impossible to ignore. Which raises the question on Straight Bat: who exactly is afraid of Vijay?

Is it the entrenched elites of the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) and the All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK) who suddenly realise that the comfortable duopoly which has defined Tamil politics for half a century may no longer be guaranteed? Is it the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) which worries that a Vijay-Congress understanding could eventually create a southern political counterweight with national resonance? Or is it younger inheritors of power like Udhayanidhi Stalin who understand that Vijay is not just another actor entering politics, but a mass cultural icon capable of attracting precisely the youth constituency that maybe Udhayanidhi was counting on?

Make no mistake, my friends: the anxiety around Vijay is real. You can sense it in the relentless attempts to dismiss him as “just another film star”. You can sense it in the intensity with which every statement he makes is analysed. And you can sense it in the curious institutional hesitation that seems to surround his political rise.

Take the role of Governor Rajendra Arlekar, who currently holds additional charge of Tamil Nadu. Now, Arlekar is a senior BJP politician from Goa, well respected in the state. But the manner in which Vijay was repeatedly asked to furnish letters of support before being invited formally triggered an important constitutional question. Since when is a majority determined inside Raj Bhavan rather than on the floor of the Assembly?

India’s parliamentary conventions are clear: when there is uncertainty, the test of majority must happen in the legislature. Governors are expected to act as neutral constitutional authorities, not political gatekeepers.

Which is why the hesitation around Vijay acquired larger political meaning. Was it simply procedural caution? Or did sections of the establishment feel uncomfortable dealing with a charismatic outsider who could disrupt carefully balanced equations?

Indeed, it is the fear of disruption that lies at the heart of the Vijay phenomenon.

For decades, Tamil Nadu politics has functioned within a relatively stable framework. The DMK and AIADMK alternated in power. National parties remained secondary players. Political succession, though fiercely contested, still operated within familiar Dravidian structures.

Vijay unsettles that ecosystem. Not because he has already built a formidable political machine — he hasn’t. But because he threatens assumptions that the existing order has long depended upon.

Look at the AIADMK. Ever since the passing of J Jayalalithaa, the party has struggled to rediscover a towering statewide figure. Internal factionalism, leadership uncertainty and organisational drift have weakened what was once a formidable political force. How long the AIADMK can survive under the present dispensation is uncertain. Already there is a growing chorus to replace E Palaniswami as the party leader.

The DMK under M K Stalin remains a force but, like every long-ruling party, it now carries the burden of incumbency. Questions over dynasty, succession and concentration of power inevitably become sharper over time.

This is where Vijay becomes politically significant. He enters the arena without decades of accumulated baggage. He carries no direct responsibility for past governance failures. He speaks the language of aspiration rather than ideological rigidity. He can appeal simultaneously to urban youth, lower middle-class voters and sections of rural Tamil Nadu.

Most importantly, Vijay already possesses something that most politicians spend years trying to build: emotional connection. His fan clubs are not merely fan clubs. They are highly organised social networks with grassroots presence. In Tamil Nadu, where cinema fandom often overlaps with political mobilisation, that matters enormously.

The BJP too has reasons to watch Vijay carefully. Publicly, the BJP may welcome any fragmentation of Dravidian politics. But privately, there may well be concern over where Vijay eventually positions himself. I can tell you for a fact that someone very high up in Delhi was monitoring every move in Chennai, even trying to push the idea along with Udhayanidhi Stalin of a Vijay-AIADMK government with outside support from the DMK. Stalin and Kanimozhi, I gather, were among the few who were reluctant for such a “deal”.

In particular, Vijay’s alignment with Rahul Gandhi and the Congress, and perhaps broader opposition forces, suggests he could become more than a regional actor. He could become a symbol of southern resistance politics — a charismatic figure capable of articulating federal concerns, regional pride and anti-centralisation sentiment in a language that resonates with younger voters. Imagine Vijay and Rahul touring across South India together ahead of 2029: it can be a potent combination if it lasts. Vijay may even become a magnet for other opposition leaders from the South. For example, he reportedly has a good equation with YS Jagan Mohan Reddy in Andhra Pradesh.

A broader “southern” alliance would worry the BJP, especially because states like Tamil Nadu have historically remained difficult terrain for Hindutva politics. The BJP’s challenge in Tamil Nadu is not merely electoral. It is cultural. The Dravidian political imagination has always emphasised linguistic identity and regional assertion over religious mobilisation. Vijay instinctively understands this political grammar.

And then there is the Udhayanidhi factor. For Udhayanidhi Stalin, Vijay is not merely a rival politician. He is a rival cultural phenomenon. If Vijay succeeds like MGR once did, he alters Tamil Nadu’s political map almost totally and makes other young leaders appear old.

In Tamil Nadu, charisma matters. Myth-making matters. The ability to command public imagination matters. A mass hero entering politics automatically alters the emotional chemistry of the political space. That is why Vijay’s rise is being watched with such intensity.

But before Vijay supporters begin imagining MGR-like dominance, a note of caution is necessary. The history of actor-politicians in India is uneven. For every MGR or Jayalalithaa, there have been many stars who discovered that political applause and electoral durability are not the same thing. Cinema offers visibility. It does not automatically provide administrative credibility or organisational depth.

And this is where Vijay’s real challenge begins now. Can he move beyond symbolism and slogans? Can he build a serious booth-level organisation? Can he attract credible political lieutenants beyond celebrity circles? Can he take clear positions on difficult issues — caste inequalities, economic growth, federalism, language politics, jobs and welfare? Most importantly, can he convince voters that he is not merely an anti-establishment protest figure, but a genuine governing alternative? Because disrupting a system is one thing. Replacing it is far harder.

There is another fascinating aspect to the Vijay phenomenon. Think of his full name: Chandrashekar Joseph Vijay. In which other large Indian state would a politician with that layered identity be accepted so naturally across communities at a time when Hindu identity is so overwhelming in a BJP-dominated political milieu?

That perhaps tells us something profound about Tamil Nadu itself. For all its political battles and social contradictions, Tamil Nadu has historically allowed linguistic and regional identity to transcend narrower religious divisions. Vijay’s persona reflects that synthesis — culturally rooted, proudly Tamil, yet comfortable with multiple identities.

Which is why the Vijay phenomenon may not be easily replicable elsewhere. Yes, India has had actor-politicians in several states. But Tamil Nadu offers uniquely fertile political soil: a powerful cinema culture, a long Dravidian political history, strong regional consciousness and an electorate deeply responsive to charisma-driven mobilisation. That combination is rare.

Whatever happens in future, one thing is undeniable. Vijay has already achieved what most new political entrants fail to do: he has made every major political player react to him. And in politics, relevance is the first major victory.

The bigger test lies ahead. Can Vijay transition from superstar to statesman? Can he take along a Congress party, known to have uneasy relations with allies, into more than just a temporary power-sharing arrangement? And will his smaller allies eventually arm-twist him? Vijay has converted fandom into votes, but will votes convert into organisation, and organisation into durable political power? Or will he discover that politics, unlike cinema, rarely allows retakes? As they say in Hindi cinema, picture abhi baaki hai! For now, though, Tamil Nadu has thrown up the political blockbuster of 2026!

- Ends
Views expressed in this opinion piece are those of the author