Last Tuesday in Tamil Nadu assembly, chief minister C Joseph Vijay recreated the famous Stalin hand-gesture of ‘it’s all finished’ – and TVK ministers and MLAs cheered as if at a first day first show in a cinema hall (minister Bussy Anand almost jumped off his chair).
The next day, distributing appointment letters to more than 400 TNPSC recruits, the chief minister did the ‘heart’ gesture – and many more. Histrionics is not foreign to politics, but Vijay seems intent on breaking the ‘stiff’ mould of the conventional politician.
In Indian politics, authority is often measured by distance. Leaders travel in long convoys, wear starched white attire, speak sparingly beyond political platforms, and maintain an air of inaccessibility.
The less they smile – though they do that a lot in front of cameras – the more powerful they appear. Most politicians wear carefully cultivated stiffness. Vijay, but for his sartorial choice of black-and-white suit, isn’t too different, but when it comes to body language, the actor in him peeps out once a while.
Whether it is draping an arm around a colleague, giving polio drops to toddlers with a smile or walking up to a pregnant woman who found it difficult to go to the stage to receive her appointment letter, Vijay is trying to project an MGR version of leadership that looks more human than hierarchical on the outside.
And this style resonates with younger voters accustomed to CEOs wearing T-shirts, athletes embracing opponents and world leaders posting informal videos on social media. To them, warmth does not diminish authority; it often enhances it.
Political communication today is mostly visual. Modern politics is increasingly consumed as images before it is remembered as speeches. Vijay appears to understand this, probably because of his film background (something Udhayanidhi Stalin doesn’t seem to have learned from Kollywood).
Indeed, symbolism has its limits. History is filled with charismatic leaders whose warmth concealed administrative weakness. Good optics cannot compensate for poor governance. Eventually, govts are judged by employment, education, healthcare, infrastructure, law and order and economic growth. Style makes no statement without substance.
Vijay has rarely appeared naturally expressive – fans, pull that punch – either on screen or in politics. Hence these gestures seem to come less from instinct and more from showmanship. That’s why probably his ‘kutti kadhai’ in assembly about the man searching for his missing father (another jibe at Udhayanidhi and Stalin) came across as a crude attempt at humour that fell flat (Vijay should watch some old videos of former TN CM M Karunanidhi’s poker-faced speeches that dripped satire, or former Keralam CM E K Nayanar’s speeches that mixed roadside banter with political philosophies).
When informality is rehearsed, it blurs institutional boundaries in a cringe way. Vijay’s quick political ascension has reinforced the notion that in politics, perception often becomes reality. Unless accompanied by measurable affirmative action, perception will be hard to maintain. The challenge is not just retaining the perception but perpetually building on it too – something Prime Minister Narendra Modi has untiringly done with astounding results.
If style is eventually backed by competent governance, Vijay may have introduced not just a new govt but a new political culture—one where authority no longer depends on distance, where confidence replaces stiffness, and where a leader can command respect without appearing unapproachable.
For decades, politicians believed power had to look intimidating. If Vijay is testing a different proposition — that in the age of social media and participatory democracy, power may look strongest when it looks most human – let’s wish him the best.
Disclaimer
Views expressed above are the author’s own.
