Tamil Nadu | Superstar's stunning sweep

Appadi podu, podu (Do it that way).... On May 4, as early leads came in, Tamil Nadu had only one song on its lips, the electric mass anthem from the 2004 superhit Ghilli, starring Vijay and Trisha Krishnan. And why not, since the superstar’s two-year-old party, the Tamilaga Vettri Kazhagam (TVK), was looking like it was running away with the election. By the end of the day, Vijay’s TVK emerged as the single largest party with 108 seats, just 10 short of a majority in the 234-member assembly. The verdict disrupted five decades of dominance by the Dravidian majors, the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) and the All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK). The result instantly triggered comparisons between Vijay and the late actor and chief minister M.G. Ramachandran (MGR). But it’s early days yet. Suffice it to say that the 2026 election produced one of the most significant realignments of Tamil Nadu’s popular politics in decades.

Of the other parties, the DMK trailed with 59 seats while the AIADMK secured 47. The political disruption aside, the central question now is not merely how Vijay won, but how a toddler party upended such entrenched political entities within two years of entering electoral politics. A major factor appears to have been the consolidation of young and first-time voters behind the TVK. Reports during the campaign had flagged the unusually high mobilisation among Gen Z voters, many of whom reportedly felt that the traditional Dravidian parties were ‘politically exhausted’.

Several observers also noted how Vijay’s political communication differed sharply from conventional poll campaigns. Instead of relying primarily on large cadre networks and traditional media outreach, the TVK appeared to have built a floating, renegade campaign around digital mobilisation, fan club conversion and extraordinary social media visibility. “The party had no structure to speak of at the ground level,” says Mudhalvan, a political observer who worked on the ground in Tindivanam, near Chennai. “But obviously, the social media outreach was huge.”

THE BEGINNINGS

For over three decades now, Vijay has occupied a singular space in Tamil public life: first as a filmstar dismissed as ordinary, then as one of Indian cinema’s most bankable actors, and now possibly as the next chief minister of Tamil Nadu. Joseph Vijay Chandrasekhar entered cinema with both privilege and pressure. The son of filmmaker S.A. Chandrasekhar and playback singer Shoba Chandrasekhar, he faced accusations of nepotism long before it became a popular slur in Chennai’s film industry. Mocked for his appearance, dialogue delivery and lack of screen presence, they said he did not have the qualities needed to become a star. That perception changed slowly. Mid-1990s romantic dramas such as Poove Unakkaga, Love Today and Kadhalukku Mariyadhai helped his cause, and soon Vijay had an image distinct from the hyper-masculine heroes of the time. The transformation to major star status began in the early 2000s as Tamil cinema shifted towards larger-than-life heroes, ‘punch’ dialogues and fan-driven spectacle. Films such as Thirumalai, Ghilli, Thirupaachi, Pokkiri and Sivakasi repositioned Vijay as a mass action hero.

In fact, Ghilli (2004) became a landmark. Fast-paced and packed with crowd-pleasing moments, it expanded Vijay’s reach across class and geography, turning him into something of a phenomenon. This phase also revealed one of Vijay’s greatest strengths: adaptability. Unlike stars who cultivated a fixed persona, Vijay absorbed what audiences wanted at different moments. He sharpened his dancing, improved his comic timing and developed the ‘mass entry’ formula that became central to Tamil commercial cinema. At the same time, his fan clubs were becoming increasingly organised, naturally inviting political speculation. Indeed, the main fan club, Vijay Makkal Iyakkam (VMI), with its reported 15 million members, has been critical in the success of the TVK. Party sources say over 60 per cent of the TVK candidates were either VMI members or selected from their recommendations.

A revealing glimpse into Vijay’s transitional phase emerged in a 2009 India Today Tamil special issue. When asked whether his welfare activities were politically motivated, Vijay resisted the idea, saying, “what I do comes from basic humanity”, but later went on to admit that “power was necessary beyond a point to keep doing good things”. He did not dismiss the idea of entering politics. “Right now, I am fully focused on cinema. I might enter politics in the future.”

Over time, Vijay’s films increasingly began to contain political commentary. In 2013, Thalaivaa faced major release disruptions and political tensions in Tamil Nadu, prompting Vijay to personally meet then CM, the late J. Jayalalithaa, to resolve the crisis. In 2017, Mersal triggered a national debate after dialogues criticising the GST system and healthcare policies drew objections from BJP leaders. As demands grew for the scenes to be removed, Vijay put out a public statement thanking the political leaders, journalists and social activists who had “supported freedom of expression”.

Though he denied it at the time, in hindsight, moments like the 2021 bicycle ride to vote during fuel price protests, the remarks interpreted as criticism of excessive freebie politics, all seem carefully calibrated to reinforce his political image. In Tamil Nadu, cinema and politics share a long emotional vocabulary. No one since MGR has done better in channelising this dialogue than Vijay.

THE WHISTLE CALLS

Vijay’s campaign was built less on organisational depth than on a carefully cultivated political persona that positioned him as an outsider confronting an entrenched political order. Framing himself as a vehicle for change, his speeches repeatedly returned to corruption, governance failures, unemployment and the concentration of power within dynastic political families. He also relied on direct, emotionally charged communication that drew from his screen persona: sharp dialogue delivery, moral positioning and a carefully crafted image of personal integrity.

The anti-incumbency against the M.K. Stalin regime created fertile ground for that messaging. Throughout the campaign, Vijay repeatedly targeted Stalin, at times referring to him as “uncle”, and then backing off to remark that even calling him so itself invited anger. Curiously, while he identified the BJP as his ideological opponent, his criticism of the saffron side was always a little muted.

At the same time, Vijay’s campaign also exposed the limits of his transition from star to full-time politician. Critics pointed to the unevenness of his political engagement, especially highlighting his response to the Karur tragedy. Vijay took nearly 60 hours to react publicly, and when he did, the intervention quickly turned into a political attack on Stalin rather than acknowledging the criticism over his delayed arrival and the lack of crowd management.

Vijay also missed several scheduled appearances, and also spoke the least among the three top leaders (the others being Stalin and EPS). Local candidates frequently relied on hologram projections, recorded messages and his celebrity image to sustain campaign momentum. In Kumbakonam, for instance, the TVK candidate R. Vinoth used Vijay’s hologram extensively; he still won by a slender margin. It seems none of these limitations diminished Vijay’s appeal. The party symbol, the whistle, was loud and clear in the state.

Political observers say the biggest takeaway from the 2026 election is that Tamil Nadu has entered an uncertain period where charisma, digital mobilisation and generational change are reshaping electoral behaviour faster than traditional party structures can respond. This election had a total of 57.3 million eligible voters, of which about 12.2 million (roughly 21 per cent) were in the 18-29 age bracket, the so-called GenZ voters. Whether this digital age cohort played an outsize role in the verdict is also now a point of discussion.

The age connection carried on to TVK’s candidate base too, with the average age being less than 40. A perfect example of how this segued into the TVK story was the much-talked about winner from Virugambakkam seat in south Chennai: 30-year-old R. Sabarinathan, son of Vijay’s long-time driver and close aide Rajendran.

The party, though, positioned itself carefully even within this environment. Vijay avoided presenting himself as a conventional ideological crusader. The TVK’s 40-point manifesto also kept it simple, emphasising jobs generation, women’s welfare, MSME revival and governance transparency.

DRAVID MAJORS LOSE THE PLOT

Olathur, Stalin’s long-time seat, and Chennai emerged as the clearest symbols of the DMK’s fall in 2026. Stalin’s defeat to former close aide, V.S. Babu of the TVK, carried enormous political import. Across the Greater Chennai region, the DMK was reduced to two seats, a stunning reversal in what had long been one of the party’s strongest urban bastions.

For the AIADMK, the result is troubling because it suggests not merely electoral defeat but long-term erosion. It is becoming increasingly clear that it may never reclaim the emotional connect and charismatic leadership once provided by Jayalalithaa and MGR. The emergence of TVK may accelerate this diminution, with younger anti-DMK voters who once viewed the AIADMK as a default alternative shifting to Vijay’s party.

As for the BJP, now reduced to one seat, it may be electorally limited in Tamil Nadu, but could still be an indirect beneficiary of the political fragmentation. If the state enters a prolonged phase of fractured mandates, the BJP may gain relevance as a negotiating force.

Meanwhile, the inexperience of Vijay’s partymen is already starting to show. At least two TVK MLAs spoke in Hindi to journalists soon after their victory, drawing criticism on social media. “It sends the wrong signals in a state where linguistic identity remains politically sensitive. Tamil Nadu has traditionally been a place where even the prime minister addresses public events in English,” noted one observer.

Indeed, the election has altered TN’s political vocabulary in more ways than one. The electorate has not just voted for a new party, it has signalled impatience with established political structures and opened the door to a far more fluid political era. Whether this is transitional or permanent, only time will tell.