canvases of political competition: image production as politics in tamil nadu, india

This article was downloaded by: [Roos Gerritsen]On: 07 February 2014, At: 09:46Publisher: RoutledgeInforma Ltd Registered in England and Wales Registered Number: 1072954Registered office: Mortimer House, 37-41 Mortimer Street, London W1T3JH, UK

Ethnos: Journal ofAnthropologyPublication details, including instructions forauthors and subscription information:http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/retn20

Canvases of PoliticalCompetition: ImageProduction as Politics in TamilNadu, IndiaRoos Gerritsen aa Heidelberg University , GermanyPublished online: 27 Jun 2013.

To cite this article: Roos Gerritsen , Ethnos (2013): Canvases of PoliticalCompetition: Image Production as Politics in Tamil Nadu, India, Ethnos: Journal ofAnthropology, DOI: 10.1080/00141844.2013.793208

To link to this article: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/00141844.2013.793208

PLEASE SCROLL DOWN FOR ARTICLE

Taylor & Francis makes every effort to ensure the accuracy of allthe information (the “Content”) contained in the publications on ourplatform. However, Taylor & Francis, our agents, and our licensorsmake no representations or warranties whatsoever as to the accuracy,completeness, or suitability for any purpose of the Content. Any opinionsand views expressed in this publication are the opinions and views ofthe authors, and are not the views of or endorsed by Taylor & Francis.The accuracy of the Content should not be relied upon and should beindependently verified with primary sources of information. Taylor andFrancis shall not be liable for any losses, actions, claims, proceedings,demands, costs, expenses, damages, and other liabilities whatsoever

http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/retn20

http://www.tandfonline.com/action/showCitFormats?doi=10.1080/00141844.2013.793208

http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/00141844.2013.793208

or howsoever caused arising directly or indirectly in connection with, inrelation to or arising out of the use of the Content.

This article may be used for research, teaching, and private studypurposes. Any substantial or systematic reproduction, redistribution,reselling, loan, sub-licensing, systematic supply, or distribution in any formto anyone is expressly forbidden. Terms & Conditions of access and use canbe found at http://www.tandfonline.com/page/terms-and-conditions

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

http://www.tandfonline.com/page/terms-and-conditions

Canvases of Political Competition: ImageProduction as Politics in Tamil Nadu, India

Roos GerritsenHeidelberg University, Germany

abstract In this article, I explore the production of political images in the Indian stateof Tamil Nadu. The state is known for the ubiquitous presence of banners, murals andposters in its public spaces, featuring prominent politicians and actors. It is commonlyargued that these images help to convey the heroic or exclusive status of politicalleaders. However, such images are actually produced by party workers and thereforedo not simply transpose status and image. Instead, political supporters praise theirleader via these images and act as ‘kingmakers’ in constructing reputation andpower. Simultaneously, by putting political images on display, supporters also authorisetheir own power. While praise is important in showing a person’s dedication to a pol-itical party, the images, in the motivations of their producers, are suffused with ambiva-lence and competition as well. Hence, I argue, political image practices are notrepresentative of politics, they are politics.

keywords India, vernacular politics, praise, celebrity, visual culture

Introduction

Tamil Nadu’s public spaces are populated with images in various shapes,sizes and genres displaying blown up imagery of the state’s main politi-cal leaders and movie stars. This culture of display is evidence of the

long-standing intimate relationship between the region’s film industry and itspolitical parties, in which various actors and others working in the state’smovie industry have pursued political careers. These images have beencentral to the political process in which populist, person-centred politics hasshaped a particular cast of long-ruling politicians, whose personality is central

ethnos, ifirst 2013 (pp. 1–26)

# 2013 Routledge Journals, Taylor and Francisissn 0014-1844 print/issn 1469-588x online. http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/00141844.2013.793208

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

to the party they represent. In most works on the dovetailing of cinema andpolitics in Tamil Nadu, the focus has been primarily on the production of iden-tity of the political leaders (Hardgrave 1973; Forrester 1976; Sivathamby 1981;Pandian 1992; Widlund 2000; Jacob 2009). It has repeatedly been suggestedthat through films and the ubiquitous imagery displayed in the streets, cine-matic and personal lives blur, for the benefit of political leaders and theirparties (Pandian 1992; Dickey 1993a; Jacob 2009).

However, most of the images to be found in Tamil Nadu’s public spaces arecreated by political followers who put up banners and posters for specialoccasions or tag their neighbourhood by commissioning murals. Eventhough by putting up images supporters seem to venerate and publicise theirleaders, the images actually ‘perform in several capacities’ (Spyer 2008: 11):they act as political propaganda, venerate political leaders, but also enhancetheir producers’ position of power. Therefore, considering the pedigree ofthese images, if we think about the spectacle of the state we have to take intoaccount the vernacular stage on which political constituencies of TamilNadu’s parties are made and on which supporters begin their own politicalcareers (see also Davis 2007; Freitag 2007; Jain 2007a).

In this article, I focus on these vernacular image productions by local partysupporters in Chennai, the capital of the south Indian state of Tamil Nadu. Iexplore the production and display of political images in public spaces andhow these are put into play to authorise and claim power. Political supportersdo not merely support their political leaders but, I argue, they act as ‘king-makers’, making political reputation and politicians through their productionof images. At the same time, with this recurring public presence supportersalso act as kingmakers for themselves as they transpose the power of theirleader onto themselves via these images.

I do not want to suggest that political practice exists only in image manipu-lation. Instead I want to show how images form a space in which politics canbe conceived, enacted and understood (Rajagopal 2001: 1). Following Jain(2007b), Pinney (2004) and Spyer (2008), I suggest that images are as muchpart of political practice as they are a representation of it. With their political pres-ence and performance of power, images can have a separate life from the politicsthey seem to publicise. What’s more, in contrast to the alleged power of politicalimages, I argue that they contain a high level of ambivalence and ambiguity. Theimages may seem to praise political leaders with adulating texts and imagecompositions but, as I will show, they are also suffused with ambivalencetowards those who are praised. This ambivalence is not manifest in the

ethnos, vol. preprint:0, 2013 (pp. 1–26)

2 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

image’s appearance but rather lies in the attitudes of its producer. It is this ambiva-lence that shows us how images can be powerful in their recurring presence butshould be considered by taking into account their share in making status and pol-itical practice.

While framing these images in patronage relationships, in this article Iexplore what the publicness of media does to the understanding of politicsand the production of status. I draw parallels with graffiti, visual culture andtheir way of marking identities and claiming space. I also draw on Geschiere’s(2003) work on spin doctors to suggest that these vernacular image productionsare crucial in consolidating the status of a leader as well as the one who pro-duces that image (in a double sense). Politics in Western Europe or the USAis often talked about in terms of transparency, accountability or rationality(see also McKernan 2011). Boorstin (1992) refers to ‘pseudo-events’ or‘pseudo-politicians’ to describe the media spectacle which has become moreimportant or attractive than the socio-political world itself. With a Baudrillar-dian feeling of loss of reality and replacement by spectacle, Boorstin andmany scholars that followed him, considers celebrity as separate from politicalculture. When it is put into play in politics, as, for example, in the case of moviestar-turned-politicians Arnold Schwarzenegger or Ronald Reagan, their moveinto politics is commonly talked about as if they would interrupt the rationalityof political practice or undermine democracy. Much of the literature on media-tised political relationships seems to develop from this feeling and explains thepolitical careers of celebrities by means of the deliberate construction of theirimage (Kellner 2003; Messner 2007; Thimsen 2010; McKernan 2011). Theways in which spectacle is inherent to political practice and the ways inwhich ‘the public’ constructs personalities and icon status in cinema or politicsis usually not considered. In this article, I want to show how on a vernacularlevel personas are constructed through images and that these images are notas straightforward as they might appear.

Images as discussed in this article are part of a larger ‘inter-ocular’1 field ofmass-produced images that circulate widely in vernacular spaces. The form aswell as the practices of worship that political images evoke, parallel the religiousmass-produced prints, also called calendar or bazaar art that circulate widely inIndia. Images in India ‘have been central in redirecting attitudes of devotion tofamily, community, or religious figures towards the nation, which has itselfoften been figured visually in terms of family relationships, expanded commu-nity, or nation-deity’ (Davis 2007). Therefore, as they are produced in vernacular


Canvases of Political Competition 3

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

spaces of politics, the images produced by party workers contribute to the ima-gining as well as the production of politics in Tamil Nadu.

I will start with a brief historical overview of Tamil politics in which I focusparticularly on the centrality of images in the political process and the leader-centred political practice in Tamil Nadu. I look at the ways in which, partlyin and via images, personalities of party leaders have become central to partypolitics, the conflation of film fandom and political followership and the paral-lels with religious forms of worship, praise and patronage relationships. Then, Iwill show how party supporters deploy images to revere their leader as well asconsolidate their own position. This will be followed by a discussion on theambivalence that I discern in the production of images. Throughout thisarticle, I follow one political supporter named Manohar, and his attitudetowards the leader of his political party, J. Jayalalitha. His ideas on where toinclude and exclude his party leader in public images may help us to understandthe production of reputation and the multiple ways in which images perform.

This article is based on 18 months of fieldwork in the Union Territory ofPuducherry2 and Tamil Nadu’s capital Chennai studying film fan clubs, politicalpractice, visual culture and the politics of spectacle in Tamil Nadu. For thisproject, I used ethnographic research methods and interviewed and followedvarious film fans, political supporters, government officials and the artists andstudios that produce the images commissioned by fans and party workers.

A History of Political PublicityTamil Nadu’s urban spaces are marked by the myriad banners, posters and

murals showing the faces of the main political figures of Tamil Nadu. Thisculture of display has to be situated within a wider framework of political prac-tice in Tamil Nadu and the centrality of visual display in political processes. Thecommon usage of images that strongly connotes cinematic publicity actuallyderives from a long-standing, intimate relationship between the Tamil movieindustry and political parties. The south Indian state of Tamil Nadu and itscapital Chennai in particular were famous – notorious even – for theirlarger-than-life displays of political and cinematic heroes. In Tamil Nadu,they stem from a specific history in which film and politics have becomemutually reinforcing. Since the end of the 1960s, the state has been ruled byChief Ministers who started their careers in the movie industry.

This close relationship between the film industry and political parties startedin the heyday of cinema. Actors and directors, most coming from theatre, usedfilm to criticise colonial rule and refer to India’s independence. As many theatre


4 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

actors shifted to the film industry, they implemented their political and socialcommitment there as well.

The first party that made wide use of cinema’s popular attraction was theDravida Munnettra Kazhagam (Indian Progress Party, or DMK). Manymembers of the DMK came from the field of theatre, including its first leader,C.N. Annadurai. Annadurai, a dramatist, writer, director and producer, was acharismatic rhetorician (Hardgrave 1964: 401; Widlund 1993: 9) who, in combi-nation with the mobilisation of movie stars to attend party rallies, attractedthousands of people, resulting in a growing electorate (Hardgrave 1964: 400–1; Dickey 1993b: 343). Movie actors for their part were drawn towards theDMK because of its position in the film industry as the owner of film companies(Widlund 1993: 11) and its generous awards and grants to encourage the cinemaindustry in Tamil Nadu (Jacob 1997: 152).

The close relationships between film stars, directors and politics heraldeddecades in which films were used for political publicity. Films of all genres,from mythological and social to melodrama, were infused with politicalimagery and rhetoric relating to the political subjects the party was interestedin at the time (Thoraval 2000). In addition, the party’s publicity materialstarted to be modelled on the visual vocabulary of film publicity by usingsimilar pictorial conventions.

Two Icons: MGR and JayalalithaThe cine-political crossovers have been described extensively by several

scholars (Hardgrave 1973; Forrester 1976; Sivathamby 1981; Pandian 1992;Dickey 1993a; Baskaran 1996; Widlund 2000; Jacob 2009). These works havefocused in particular on the influence of film reputation on the political livesof movie stars, especially that of the famous movie star-turned-politicianM.G. Ramachandran (1917– 1987), commonly known by his iconic nameMGR (Forrester 1976; Pandian 1992; Widlund 1993; Dickey 1993b) and his suc-cessor J. Jayalalitha (Jacob 1997, 2009).

MGR was one of Tamil Nadu’s most prolific movie stars, as well as beingChief Minister. He first joined the DMK but, aware of his popularity, after afew years MGR left the party as the result of a conflict and in 1972 foundedhis own party, the Agila India Anna Dravida Munnettra Kazhagam (All IndiaAnna Dravidian Progress Party, or AIADMK). The first elections MGR andhis party participated in were successful and MGR became Chief Minister ofTamil Nadu in 1977. After his death in 1987, Jayalalitha, MGR’s co-actressand alleged mistress, eventually took over the leadership of the AIADMK.



Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

Jayalalitha carefully moulded her image as politician by relying on MGR’s fame.From the beginning of her political career until the moment she could stand herground, it was the cinematic association with MGR that gave her authority. Byshowing her image on banners and posters with MGR looking down at her, as ifapproving her rule, Jayalalitha was able to transfer MGR’s ‘divine’ image ontoherself (Jacob 1997). Figure 1 is an example of one such mural. It depicts Jayala-litha on the left, with a small image of MGR looking down on her. He appearsas an intellectual, with a pen his hand and a pondering look. On the right-handside of the mural, the names of the party workers who commissioned the muralsare listed. I will come back to the listed names further on.

Once Jayalalitha had established her own reputation, MGR’s presence invisual propaganda was reduced to almost nothing (Jacob 1997: 144). Shebegan to develop her own image which was separate from MGR. She won elec-tions and unleashed a personality cult in which she represented herself as agoddess in various ways. For example, she organised special darshan3 hours ather home in Chennai when she appeared on her balcony at given times for visi-tors to receive darshan and she let her followers prostrate themselves at her feet.She appeared on posters depicted as the Virgin Mary4 and as the goddess Kaliwith a garland of skulls representing her opponent Karunanidhi, the leader ofthe DMK. In the 1990s, gigantic plywood cut-outs some 30 metres in heightand occasionally even higher displayed Jayalalitha throughout Chennai andother cities in the state, and other parties followed suit.5

Describing the ‘cut-out’ culture in Tamil Nadu’s capital Chennai, Jacob(2009) has argued that the forms of popular art such as films and banners

Figure 1. Muralcommissioned by anAIADMK party member. Onthe left-hand sideJayalalitha and MGR areportrayed. On the right-hand side the names of localparty members are listed.Puducherry 2008.Photograph by the author.


6 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

portray the personal lives and public roles of (cine-)politicians as identical. Inother words, the screen image of a hero fighting injustice blurs with hispublic life as a politician. This in turn convinces audiences of the sincerity ofthe person and as such augments his or her celebrity status. This is enhanced,one could argue, by the strong emphasis on and interest in personal identitiesin Tamil Nadu’s politics. In conversations about the political parties in thestate people often do not speak in terms of party politics but rather in termsof what party leaders have said or achieved. If cinematic images of a cine-poli-tician are put forward continuously, it is perhaps not surprising that the screenimage transposes itself onto a person’s political image.

Later, I will show how this transposing of images is not as straightforward assuggested by Jacob. But let me first introduce Manohar, an AIADMK partyworker whose murals and attitude towards his party leader, Jayalalitha, Iwant to use as an illustration of how images are imbued with reverence andambivalence. I met Manohar when I talked with an artist who was painting amural depicting AIADMK leader Jayalalitha and former Chief Minister MGRon a wall close to Manohar’s office (Figure 2). It turned out to be a mural com-missioned by Manohar, a man in his 60s, living and working in a central neigh-bourhood of Chennai.

Manohar became a fan of MGR when he was 12 years old. To prove hisfandom, just as many other fans of MGR have done, he had texts tattooedon his body praising MGR. On his back he has a few lines of what Manoharsays was an English article on MGR’s good character and on his arm he hasa similar tattoo in Tamil. Manohar soon developed an interest in politics

Figure 2. Artist working ona mural commissioned byManohar. The mural depictsMGR and Jayalalitha.Chennai 2010. Photographby the author.



Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

because of MGR’s political involvement. When MGR left the DMK to start hisown AIADMK party, many fan club members were assigned posts in localneighbourhood politics. As a result, Manohar was an area counsellor twice inhis neighbourhood in the 1970s. He was a fervent follower of MGR and tothis day, despite MGR’s death, he is loyal to and active in the AIADMK.Manohar has the following to say about Jayalalitha and her relationship withMGR:

She acted in nearly 28 movies with MGR. Her character in these movies shows hersupporting MGR, while he is helping society. . . . So we compared her screenimage to her public image. In the movies, if MGR is feeding the poor, Ms. Jayalalithais also there with him. Those kinds of characters drew people towards her. Andpeople thought she could convey the image of MGR very well in society. That’swhy MGR’s wife Janaki couldn’t win in the elections.6 If somebody was helpingmy hero we also started liking that person. That’s what happened with MGR, in Jaya-lalitha’s case.

Manohar’s words suggest that respect for Jayalalitha is based on her screenimage but primarily on her screen image in relation to MGR, somethingMGR’s real wife Janaki was not able to do because of a lack of cinematic repu-tation. I have more to say about the reel relationship being favoured above thereal marriage between MGR and Janaki further below. So even though Jayala-litha relies on a cinematic background, it is not her own background but that ofMGR that constructs her image here. We will see later, however, how thisimage of Jayalalitha is not as unambiguous as Manohar’s words seem tosuggest here.

Tagging Your Neighbourhood

Jan. 2: Mr Arulmurugan, 25, of Marudur (Therku) Namachivayam Kaadu village nearVedaranaym, got the shock of his life on Saturday when his close relatives and friendsreached his house with wreaths and garlands, apparently to pay their last respectsafter seeing posters declaring him dead. After seeing the posters, some of his well-wishers rang up his father to enquire about the cause of his death. It was then thatMr Arulmurugan realised to his horror that his rivals had put up posters all overthe village declaring him dead, to wreak vengeance due to previous enmity.[. . .].(Deccan Chronicle, 3 January 2011)

This short article that appeared in a newspaper in 2011 shows howimages can have powerful effects when they are used in disputes and feuds


8 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

(Figure 3).7 Newspapers in Tamil Nadu often publish stories like this. The issuesat hand, which in this case surrounded the construction of a cremation shed, areoften part of larger political disputes between two rival factions of politicalparties or caste communities. The fact that a poster can make relatives andfriends believe that someone is dead shows the confidence placed in imagesand their powerful effects. What is represented on images is actually what isbelieved to be present in it (Freedberg 1989). So although on the one hand,these images become the embodiment of what they represent, just as religiousobjects do, at the same time they become active agents in the political practiceof their producers and consumers that goes beyond what they represent.

This story also shows how the visual is put into play in more vernacularspaces of political practice and not merely as publicity organised from higherparty levels. The party workers I worked with exhibit images in public thatdisplay and venerate the political leader of the party they support. They pasteposters and put up banners for special events or publicise their party affiliationin their neighbourhood with murals dedicated to the political party theysupport.

Just as Manohar became an AIADMK worker when he was young, manyyoung men become active in political parties by joining local party cadres.These men, primarily in their younger years, begin by joining fan clubs oryouth wings of parties and gradually become more and more active in politicalactivities (Gerritsen 2012). They become active in their neighbourhood byorganising rallies and other activities in name of the party. In this way, theyconnect themselves to these parties and sometimes climb up the party ranks.

Figure 3. Deathcommemoration poster. Theposter in this photograph isnot linked to the articlequoted in this article.Puducherry 2006.Photograph by the author.



Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

In order to do this, they need to be noticed by local leaders. Showing one’s ded-ication to the party is an important way to connect to leaders. Holding eventsand revering your leader are important ways of doing this.

There are essentially two ways in which political supporters deploy imagery.First of all, events are important markers of party support and contain myriadimages that make the event visible. The congested roads of Chennai regularlyhost public events such as religious processions, movie releases or politicalmeetings (see also Younger 2001; Waghorne 2004). Younger (2001) arguesthat religious festivals are above all public events and they display vernacularvoices. Similarly, political events are organised by local party workers forvisits by a party leader, birthdays, death commemorations of late leaders orother noteworthy occasions and dates. To put these kinds of events in fullpublic view, they are planned to take place at strategic locations. Areas are trans-formed into political stages: roads are blocked off to traffic as a stage is set up inthe middle of the road. From the stage party workers give speeches in whichthey praise local and state political leaders. If they can afford it, the organisershire a cameraman and photographer and sometimes invite the press to coverthe activities. The recording is part of the spectacle itself as photographersare not recording a unique moment but are actually partly directing and struc-turing the ‘mise-en-scene’ of the moment. Hence, they endow the moment withvalue.8 Numerous flags in party colours and banners dedicated to the partyleader decorate the scene.

The display of posters and banners is, as with the recording, an importantpart of the event itself. These media contain the (attributed) names of theparty leaders, practical information, sometimes an exalting phrase and, mostimportantly, the names of the organisers. Light hoardings – cut-outs of theparty leaders made out of light bulbs – are put up around the area whichcreates a spectacle after dusk as well.

These images commonly contain, just as with the more temporary imagesfor events, a depiction of the party leader, a reverential phrase and list of thenames of the party workers that have commissioned the mural. The coloursused for the images immediately reveal the political colour of the producerstogether with the face of the leader of the party. The banner in Figure 4 wasmade for Jayalalitha’s 62nd birthday. It shows three images of Jayalalitha anda smaller image of MGR. In the middle, in large letters, the word amma(mother in Tamil and Jayalalitha’s nickname) is written. Below, the names ofthe party workers who have put up this banner are listed. To the left of thesenames, we can see a poem in reverence of Jayalalitha.9


10 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

The second way in which party workers use imagery is by claiming walls onwhich they commission so-called banner artists to paint murals indicating theirparty affiliation in the neighbourhood in which they live or operate.

Walls are often not owned by the political supporters so they ask for per-mission to use them. If the owner grants permission, sometimes a fee is paid.But the influence exerted by local political cadres and supporters engendersfear in them as well. Not everyone dares to refuse to give their wall away orto ask for a fee. Moreover, the owner is not always informed and compoundwalls of houses or buildings can be the canvas of political competitionwithout the consent of the owner. Empty walls are claimed with a small sign,i.e. the abbreviation of the political party, the year and the length of themural indicated with small arrows. These small claims of a space to paint arerespected just as a painted wall is and they keep others away from using thisparticular wall even if the date for using it has already passed or lies in the future.

Manohar, for instance, asked the owner of a recently finished house next tohis office for permission to use the boundary wall for his mural of Jayalalitha andMGR (Figure 2). The mural was a few metres in width and approximately twometres in height. It was to contain (it was not complete at the time) a filmi10

image of MGR and a political image of Jayalalitha. Manohar had specificreasons to choose these two images. I have more to say about this choicefurther on.

Manohar actually moved the site of his mural from one wall to another. Theprevious location was not good, he said: ‘People dumped waste in front of it. Wedon’t want to spend our money on a mural that has waste all around it’.Manohar had no problems with competitors for his murals because he used

Figure 4. Vinyl bannermade by a local AIADMKmember for Jayalalitha’sbirthday. Chennai 2010.Photograph by the author.



Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

images and not just text, he explained. I have frequently heard from partyworkers about this division between murals containing only text and muralscontaining images. Party workers explained that it relates to the effort (andmoney) put into a mural with images in contrast to a one containing justtext. People, some party workers suggested, respect an artist’s effort and willnot deface it that quickly. Even though a wall will not be repainted with amural by another party that soon, after a while posters will slowly start toappear on top of murals. Together with the rain and Chennai’s humidclimate, the condition of murals degrades fairly rapidly and murals keep appear-ing in different locations continuously.

Feuds between local groups often commence because of the defacement of amural or poster or because a wall is used that is not designated for anothergroup or person’s use. Defacement is forceful as it symbolically destroys whatyour opponent cherishes most (Latour 2002: 28). It is forceful because – aswith a flag – the face of a leader is the most symbolic representation of thatparty. Just as the posters which claimed a man had died symbolically destroyedthe depicted person, competitors’ posters are sometimes defaced by repaintingthe image. The level of activity of local party cadres and gangs in neighbour-hoods can be an indication of the speed with which a wall will be repaintedor defaced. But the importance of the local political person whose mural it isalso determines the ease with which a wall may be defaced.

Defacement does not happen as much as one would expect considering thein-your-face presence of public imagery and the active ways in which suppor-ters manifest themselves in the public realm. The fear of serious feuds withother party supporters in which supporters at times die restrains many fromdefacing images of other parties. Most of the defaced images I encounteredwere of the dalit party Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi (VCK).

In Figure 5, it is not the leader’s eyes but those of the supporters who com-missioned the murals that were defaced by removing the paint. This desecrationof the image can be situated within in a wider context of aggression towards so-called casteless persons or dalits. Statues of Ambedkar, himself from a castelesscommunity and celebrated, particularly by dalits, as the founder of the consti-tution, are regularly defaced by, for example, garlands of sandals or other dero-gatory practices, so much so that the statues are often screened and fenced in.Statues and banners are often at the centre of attention in community feuds,demarcating areas belonging to a certain community with the placing of sym-bolically monumental objects such as statues or banners in strategic locations.Whereas defacement seems to destroy something, it also emphasises the


12 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

power of an image. Defacement could actually heighten and renew the use ofimages, as Freedberg (1988) has shown in his work on iconoclasm. In addition,the defacement of images shows that images are not merely representations;they are in fact the interfaces of politics.

The fact that these images are produced in public spaces, sometimes illicitly,is an obvious link with other cultures of street art or graffiti. The parallel withgraffiti holds when we look at the ways in which forms of urban publicculture which are not organised by official institutions are markers of spaceand territorialisation by their creators. Graffiti, however, is often regarded as acounterculture, acting against the powers that be or as expressing sentimentswhich are not or cannot be articulated openly (Ley & Cybriwsky 1974; Ferrell1995; Street 1997; Dickinson 2008). However, whereas graffiti is often relatedto this illicitness and its non-institutional, even counter-institutional way ofmarking urban spaces for its producers, what is noteworthy about the imagesmade by party supporters is their commonness and the devotion they showto institutional leadership. Therefore, although they do serve as markers of ter-ritory, they are actually reinforcing political power. But in this reinforcement ofperson-centred political power, the images are imbued with other needs andmeaning as well.

KingmakersTo take this point further, I draw on Geschiere’s analysis of US spin doctors

and African witch doctors and their role in the production of the political

Figure 5. Muralcommissioned by a VCKparty member. The partymembers’ eyes have beendefaced by making themwhite. Puducherry 2011.Photograph by the author.



Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

persona. Geschiere (2003) has postulated a useful insight into how publicityproduces power in politics. He compares the influence of witch doctors inAfrican politics and spin doctors, the people who try to control opinionsabout events from a particular point of view in American politics. Both show‘a precarious and constantly changing balance of secrecy and publicity, revel-ation and concealment, which may be inherent to the exercise of power ingeneral’ (Geschiere 2003: 162). In American politics, the sources of power arealso concealed and spin doctors play an important role as a screen betweenvoters and politicians (Geschiere 2003: 178-9). ‘ . . . [T]he more important pub-licity becomes as a key moment in politics, the more important experts of rev-elation can make themselves’ (Geschiere 2003: 178-9). Geschiere’s comparisonacknowledges the importance of publicity in the production of power. Never-theless, he does not understand publicity as something that sends its messageacross directly but rather as something that is mediated by actors in betweenthe political person and what comes out in public. Hence, he acknowledgesthe involvement of a third party that mediates image and reputation. Moreover,the affirmative, but also harmful, publicity that circulates via spin or witchdoctors does not only refer to the political person in question, it also reflectson the witch or spin doctor him or herself. Even though I do not want todraw a parallel between political supporters and witch and spin doctors asGeschiere describes, I do think his argument on the mediation of image ishelpful in understanding the ways in which local political supporters inTamil Nadu construct the image of their party and its leader and how theyalso need this publicity to establish their own reputation.11 Political supportersact as ‘kingmakers’ in the manipulation of their leader’s political status by pub-licising and revering him or her with their images. As I will show, although it istheir leader that party workers display most prominently, they also make surethat they themselves are visible.

AdulationAn important notion with which we can further deepen our understanding

of the singularity of the political figure for political supporters is praise. The wayin which leaders are venerated resembles religious forms of worship, vision andpraise. Devotion in India is not limited to the divine or religious as such but isalso directed towards parents, politicians, movie stars and the like (Ramaswamy1998). Photographs or other kinds of images of gods, parents or a person’s pol-itical party leader are displayed in the everyday spaces of homes. The worship ofthese images evokes darshan, the Hindu religious concept which denotes seeing


14 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

and being seen by the divine (Eck 1981). The reciprocal gaze creates bonds ofintimacy between seer and seen, worshipper and worshipped (Appadurai &Breckenridge 1992: 46–50).

Several scholars have indicated that praise in India has historically been con-textualised in the realm of divinity and sovereignty in which the political and thereligious cannot be separated (Appadurai 1990; Dirks 1993; Mines 1994; Bate2009). Political events resemble religious processions in their publicness aswell as in the ways in which leaders are venerated. Bate argues that peoplerelate to political leaders in a similar way as they do to deities where praiseand bhakti (religious devotion) serve to explain the practices of devotion. Hedefines praise as ‘ . . . an ancient Indian cultural logic that informs the discursivepractices whereby one aestheticizes power as an intimate being, such as a familydeity or mother, who will grant us the benefits of her presence and respond toour appeals’ (see also Ramaswamy 1998; Bate 2009: 120).

While seeing the similarities, Bate (2009: 145), and I agree with him here, isalso careful not to presume an unmediated continuity from pre-colonialcourtly practices to recent political patronage, as he correctly states, forinstance, that the political patronage we observe appears to be much morerecent and the deification of political figures did not occur until the rise ofthe public figures MGR and Jayalalitha. The idolisation of leaders is not aone-sided activity. Praise also brings visibility to the one who conducts theactivity. Here, the emphasis on the ‘would-be big-man’ as described by Mines(1994) is relevant; party workers who want to establish themselves need acertain interaction with big men and do this by, among others things, praisingthem.

The political supporters I worked with expressed how they needed a wide-spread visual presence in the public realm to establish themselves in theirneighbourhood and vis-a-vis other supporters. They make themselves visiblebut in a way that shows their dedication and venerates their leader.Therefore, praise should not be considered as simple adoration but also as aform of self-aggrandisement.

Appadurai (1990) has identified more direct forms of praise that can berelated to divinity and indirect forms of praise or flattery that are more con-cerned with publicising the one who praises. Praise, or flattery, is not simplya means of marking out hierarchy between the worshipper and worshipped,it is also dependence upon a superior (Appadurai 1990: 97). Appadurai singlesout the indirect form of praise for those lacking direct contact with the superior.By praising the good deeds, capabilities, powers and reputation of the



Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

superior, the speaker sets him or herself in a privileged relationship with thesuperior:

The mode of praise here is not direct flattery but publicizing, which is directed not tothe emotional satisfaction of the superior but to the increment of his or her own fol-lowing . . . But the hope your superior will hear of your praise, and thus think better ofyou, is not crudely manipulative (as with alternative topographies of the self, whichpermit both acts and judgments of hypocrisy), but a mixture of adoration and expec-tation of reward that characterizes Hindu ritual generally. Praise of the superior is,therefore, part of a complex series of acts of mutual benefit that characterize theethos of Hindu worship itself (Appadurai 1990: 98-9).

Both forms of worship are highly personal and praise as a publicising agent,as Appadurai has described it, shows how supporters promote their leader butalso themselves. It authorises their own power and status (Mines 1994: 11– 12).Local party supporters use events but also the images they produce to showtheir loyalty and dedication to a party. The publicness and publicity aroundthe event become proof of a person’s political vigour. By honouring a partyleader via images, a party worker enhances his own visibility.

In this respect, Figure 6 gives an interesting twist to the adulation of leaders.Karunanidhi, the leader of the DMK, and his son and successor Stalin aredepicted much bigger than the party workers who commissioned the mural.However, even though Stalin looks straight at the viewer, his father Karunanidhiseems to look down upon one of the party workers, just as MGR was alwaysdepicted looking down on Jayalalitha, as if approving her rule. In this way, by

Figure 6. Mural depictingDMK leader Karunanidhiand his son and successorStalin. Chennai 2009.Photograph by the author.


16 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

playing with the size and position of images, party workers can heighten theirown position.

Technological Consequences and Increasing VisibilityVisibility has become even more important since the arrival of vinyl as canvas

for political imagery. In the barrage of images that can be found, a person needsto stand out, to tag his environment and connection to the party. Vinyl is cheapnowadays and it offers the opportunity to design the image digitally. Digitaldesign gives the person commissioning the image more freedom as to whatis depicted on it. What’s more, images can now be inserted of the commis-sioners themselves. Whereas on murals and on the older cloth banners it wasjust the names of the commissioners that could be added, on vinyl their facescan be easily added as well. Identity photographs are used so that the bannerincludes an indexical trace connecting a local supporter or party cadre to hisleader. This connection to a well-known leader and the publicity enhance a sup-porter’s local visibility and consequently his status. Supporters without thefinancial means to pay for extensive murals are now also able to display them-selves in connection to the party.

Party worker I worked with mentioned how, despite the aesthetic qualities ofvinyl and the photographic image, they preferred vinyl because of the qualitiesmentioned above. It gives them more visibility as images stand out more thantext. Therefore, the new so-called flex banners have proved valuable: recognis-ing a face on digitally designed banners sticks more easily in a person’s memorywhereas merely reading names does not resonate as much.

Jayalalitha and the party hierarchy have tried to put a stop to this recently(The Hindu, 4 August 2012). In 2012, the party issued a statement in whichthey said that to avoid factionalism, displaying pictures other than those of(former) party leaders was no longer allowed. The party headquarters men-tioned that MGR once made clear that only his pictures and those of ideologi-cal predecessors should be used in publicity material. Now that Jayalalitha is theleader, her pictures are obviously allowed as well.

What is going on here? Is this really a move to stop factional enmity or is it away of refocusing the attention on Jayalalitha rather than her party workers?Even though her face covers the majority of each banner and mural, perhapsJayalalitha sensed her declining popularity. Although on the one hand Jayala-litha’s relationship with MGR and her public, religious presence created a per-sonality cult, it also incited frustration and disillusionment among her followers.Jayalalitha’s image was also damaged when several years ago during a raid on



Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

her home the police recounted that they found huge numbers of watches, morethan 10,000 saris and around 750 pairs of shoes. This discovery caused astonish-ment as it appeared to show how she had enriched herself. Indeed, when we seeManohar’s ambivalence towards Jayalalitha, we see how public images, despitetheir appearance, contain the private doubts of their producers.

Despite this damage to her image, the structure of personality-focusedparties such as the DMK and AIADMK means that there is no one to takeover leadership. As a new leader is not expected to replace Jayalalitha, politicalsupporters, despite their frustrations, continue to revere her in their images.They do this because they need to show their dedication and loyalty and,importantly, promote themselves.

The Ambivalence of Praise: ManoharThe importance of the visibility of party workers in images and therefore the

mutual benefit and the mixture of adoration and expectation that Appaduraisuggests become apparent in the words of Manohar. His ideas on the relation-ship between MGR and Jayalalitha and why and when to include images of hisparty leader, Jayalalitha, in the imagery he displays show the mixed messagesthat these images convey. His explanations reveal how images contain a com-bination of loyalty, honour and expectation. More importantly, his words revealambivalence and therefore the complexity of what these images convey or whatis put in them by their producers. Manohar:

The truth is that we don’t like Ms. Jayalalitha. But MGR has nurtured this party so wedon’t want to leave the party, that’s why we are here. We are here for MGR. AfterMGR, Ms. Jayalalitha maintained the MGR fan associations very nicely. She is notlike him, but otherwise she is good. . . . Look, can you see any photo of Ms. Jayalalithahere? I don’t have any photo of her in my office. That’s why I get respect from our oldparty workers. This is not a political office. In politics we accept her as a leader afterMGR but personally we don’t like her. Moreover, I am running a business here, if Ihave a photo of her in my office, whoever comes here will think that I am a politician.If I don’t have her photo in my office anybody can come here and I don’t have aproblem.

Manohar’s words show both the ambivalent feelings towards Jayalalitha andthe problematic image of a politician. On the one hand, political loyalty for mostparty workers creates a network that can be of value. On the other hand, poli-ticians are commonly perceived as corrupt and criminal. Being linked to a partycan, therefore, deter customers as they do not want to be linked to a specific


18 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

party if they are themselves supporters of another party. Manohar has chosennot to be a politician in his office. When I asked Manohar why he does nothave a picture of Jayalalitha in his office but is commissioning a large pictureof her on the wall, Manohar explains:

I am a fan of MGR, but for Ms. Jayalalitha I am a party worker. If I do not show herimage outside, I will get into trouble. Our party workers will not like it if I do notdisplay her image outside. After MGR’s death, others thought that the party wouldsuffer. Without Ms. Jayalalitha the party would have collapsed. Since Ms. Jayalalithalooks after the MGR fan association very nicely, the party is still strong enough in thestate. I am a fan of MGR and a party worker for Ms. Jayalalitha. For example, if I werea fan of you [pointing to research assistant Vinoth], when you get married to a girl wehave to give respect to your wife too. And if you are not there, your popularity will betaken care of by your wife. Am I right? She is his successor and that’s why we followher. People didn’t accept his wife Janaki as his successor.

It turns out that Manohar’s position towards his party and Jayalalitha in par-ticular is more complex than mere reverence and loyalty. I explained abovehow Manohar chooses not to be a politician in his office. On the street,however, he has to show his loyalty as a supporter to his party. It showshow public images contain private feelings. From Manohar’s words itbecomes clear as well that Jayalalitha is still largely dependent on MGR’sstatus. Local party workers distinguish between the image of the deceasedleader MGR and the AIADMK. Two points are important to note. First,Manohar emphasises that loyalty is a generational matter. He distinguishesbetween old party workers and other party workers. Old party workers arethose who were with the party in the period of MGR’s leadership. MGR’sformer fans, in particular, still respect him as their ultimate leader and considernew leaders simply as MGR’s successors. Other party workers are more loyaltowards Jayalalitha, due to their age or the date they joined the party. However,workers higher up in the party should also pay respect to Jayalalitha becauseshe is in fact the leader. Followers such as Manohar feel the obligation toshow her image because she is the leader of the party but at the same timeManohar is not convinced of Jayalalitha’s leadership. This imagery is notdirected at Jayalalitha per se but at fellow party workers to prove thatManohar is a genuine party supporter. The painting that Manohar hasmade, he said, is not merely in adoration of MGR but also an obligation in apolitical practice of accepting someone as your leader. In other words, theimages of Jayalalitha or MGR have different meanings to these different



Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

groups of party workers. Old workers appreciate the dedication towards MGRand new workers expect loyalty towards Jayalalitha.

Second, Manohar points out that people did not accept MGR’s wife Janaki ashis successor (she was actually appointed by MGR before he died) and insteadfollowed Jayalalitha. This seems to contradict his own example of giving respectto the wife of someone you respect. However, at a symbolic Hindu religiouslevel, this connection does make sense as Jayalalitha, by depicting herself asMGR’s ‘religious consort’ has always carefully put herself forward as MGR’srightful successor. This seems to fit in Hindu mythology, as, for example, thedeity Krishna is not only depicted with his wife Rukmini but is also worshippedwith his consort Radha. This backdrop, just as the image of Jayalalitha takingcare of MGR’s status in films, makes it so that MGR’s real wife Janaki is out-ranked by a reel liaison portrayed in film.

Manohar’s views show how on the one hand cinematic imagery is importantin constructing an image but on the other hand, and more importantly, that thepersonal images that are made for it tell several stories. Manohar indicated earlierthat he does not really like Jayalalitha, partly because of the way in which she dis-tanced herself from MGR later on in her career. Although MGR is still adored forhis film roles and political practice (even though corruption under his leadershipthrived and the state’s economy was in decline), this eminence is not entirelytransposed to Jayalalitha. She is considered a political person who representsthe party or for some, represents MGR. I do want to emphasise, however, thatin other contexts one would hear other opinions about Jayalalitha as well, praisingand supporting her without hesitation. Here, I want to emphasise the ambiva-lence of the exhibited images such as those by Manohar. Many AIADMKparty workers I worked with were critical of Jayalalitha’s leadership. They feltMGR was losing presence in the party and new workers did not respect hislegacy anymore. Jayalalitha’s confidence and her own deification of her personal-ity were part of the frustration. Still, all these workers without doubt used imagesof Jayalalitha to display their party loyalty. Manohar:

Ms. Jayalalitha never gave us [party workers] an instruction on what to display or not.If we put up a small image of Amma [mother in Tamil, attributed name of Jayalalitha]compared to MGR’s image, our old party workers, district secretary, village leaders,councillors, MLAs and MPs worry that Amma may dismiss us from the post. That’swhy all of them made Amma’s image as big as that of MGR.

Manohar’s views illustrate how on the one hand party workers are afraid ofdeviating from what others do and from the iconic appearance of their leaders.


20 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

Their ubiquitous presence becomes a perpetuating force reinforcing the imageitself as well as the need to display them. At the same time, the repetition andstandardisation of these images led to fatigue and therefore the producers of theimages felt the need to come up with something innovative.

Lately, murals have become more manifest in form in impressive ways. Now,supporters use bright, new colours and the images of leaders go beyond thestandardised iconic faces and attire that these leaders have long been recognisedfor. MGR, for instance, is characteristically depicted with his trademark sun-glasses and cap. Some cine-politicians, through their entry into politics, haveadmonished their fans and supporters and asked them only to use photographsin which they are wearing a politician’s outfit, i.e. a white shirt and dhoti, fortheir imagery.12 Jayalalitha was particularly careful in managing her image as apolitician. This was all the more important for her because the status of actresseshas not always been overtly positive. Therefore, Jayalalitha relied more onMGR’s popularity than on her own cinematic background and transformedherself from an attractive heroine to an almost genderless political bodycovered up by a cape (Figures 1, 2 and 4).

I was, therefore, surprised to find lately more and more murals of MGR andJayalalitha depicting them in cinematic scenes, as we can see, for example, inManohar’s mural and the banner in Figure 4. Most political supporters that Ihave worked with told me that they actually needed something new todisplay. The AIADMK party needed to draw new attention to itself as it wasnot in power at the time. Moreover, the AIADMK had been criticised forneglecting its founder and charismatic leader MGR. The imagery made bythe party figures included fewer and fewer images of MGR, which was seenby many, also within the party, as proof that MGR was being forgotten andthat too strong a focus was being turned on the ‘substitute’ leader Jayalalitha.Manohar:

Ms. Jayalalitha came to power with a huge majority in the 2001 assembly elections.Winning these elections she believed was down to her good character, her govern-ment’s scheme for the people, her image and 25% MGR’s popularity. So during theassembly elections in 2006, big images of Ms. Jayalalitha were placed on banners,posters and wall paintings. The images of MGR were very small. What’s more,MGR’s fans were not campaigning properly for Ms. Jayalalitha. After she lost the2006 elections she realised how important it is to use MGR’s charisma. Two yearsago the party’s popularity decreased. Our reporters explained to Amma that if shewanted to come to power she shouldn’t display big images of herself. PlacingMGR’s movie images in the banners, posters and wall paintings will attract



Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

people’s attention. Moreover if she worked with the full support of his fans she wouldregain power. In the meantime reporters ran a survey which revealed that she lost theelections because MGR fans were not satisfied with her belief and so did not want towork flat out. They experienced what happens if we don’t use MGR’s popularity.

Following on from this, I noticed a renewed figuration of MGR but also ofJayalalitha on public imagery. New images were welcome to attract the atten-tion of the passer-by in a saturated landscape of political images.

ConclusionCan we still talk of the production of political personas and praise if these

images are actually informed by other motivations and ways of seeing aswell? What does it mean to adulate a party leader and his or her party ifpublic images actually contain ambivalence? The image practices I have dis-cussed in this article alert us to the various (private) intentions and meaningspublic images can contain.

I have shown in this article how political publicity cannot be seen as beingproduced from the party hierarchy. The way in which cinema images havecommonly been used by politicians and in political publicity has always beencharacteristic of Tamil Nadu. Cinematic characters are said to transform intopolitical careers, influencing voters to vote for a political party. Opposing thestraightforward messages of the entanglements of cinema and politics, in thisarticle I argue that this intentionality of parties and the passivity of consumersdoes not hold when we look at the ways in which public images are producedand displayed. I have illustrated how political supporters actually create politicalreputations through the production and subsequent adulation of images of theirleaders. By praising their leader, party workers show their loyalty and dedica-tion to their party. At the same time, they also establish and authorise theirown power. In this way, party workers, with their production of images, arekingmakers in the making of their party’s reputation, their leader’s reputation,as well as their own reputation.

Looking at the production of images in political practice gives us moregeneral insights into the production of political reputation elsewhere as well.We cannot understand political practice merely in terms of a rational discourse,seeing publicity and charismatic personalities as influencing the political system.Instead, we should consider the ways in which these are actually produced on avernacular level. In a world that is becoming more and more mediated, the ubi-quitous use of public imagery in Tamil Nadu offers an insight into the ways in


22 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

which media images are part of political practice and construct political powerand reputation at various levels.

AcknowledgementsThis article is based on my PhD research (Leiden University) on Tamil film fan clubs,vernacular politics and street images in Tamil Nadu. This research was made poss-ible with the generous support of the Catharine van Tussenbroek Fund and theLeiden University Fund. I thank the three anonymous reviewers of Ethnos, KajriJain, Tong Lam, Patricia Spyer and Dorien Zandbergen for their invaluable com-ments and sharp insights on this article.

Notes1. Mirzoeff (2000: 7) coined the terms ‘interocularity’ and ‘intervisuality’ to describe

the ‘interacting and interdependent modes of visuality’. Appadurai and Brecken-ridge (1992: 41) identified the influence and reinforcement of linked visualities asthe ‘inter-ocular field’ in which ‘meanings, scripts and symbols transfer from onesite to another’.

2. In 2006, the Union Territory of Pondicherry officially changed its name to Pudu-cherry in a larger movement in India to vernacularise names of cities.

3. Darshan is the religious practice of seeing and being seen by the divine. Hindutemples have special hours of darshan in which the deity is shown and peopletake darshan.

4. This resulted in protests from opposition parties and the Christian community afterwhich Jayalalitha ordered that the posters be removed immediately.

5. When the DMK subsequently came to power again in 1996, they put a stop to thecut-out culture as a reaction to Jayalalitha’s colossal presence in the public sphere.Instead, the DMK began to assert itself by means of murals, only occasionallyputting up cut-outs during party rallies.

6. Janaki, MGR’s wife led one of the factions of the AIADMK after MGR’s death,Jayalalitha another. In the end, Jayalalitha took over the leadership of the entireAIADMK.

7. Figure 3 depicts a similar poster for a deceased man.8. I have illustrated elsewhere that at wedding rituals this presence of a cameraman or

photographer is part of the ritual and not simply meant for the recording of theevent (2006).

9. See Bate’s (2009) eloquent work on these praising texts and Tamil political oratory.10. Filmi is the word indicating popular film music in India. Here, however, I use the

term more freely to indicate a relationship with film. So filmi images are imagesof or relating to films.

11. Geschiere starts his article with the strong opposition that he encountered when hepresented his comparison between witch doctors and spin doctors at a conference. Irealise that the comparison with the Tamil Nadu image producers might also beconsidered too farfetched, but I still believe the parallels with the production of repu-tation is helpful in understanding the images beyond the context of Tamil Nadualone.



Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

12. A dhoti is a cloth garment worn by men. Colours, borders, type and manner ofwearing can indicate religious, political, class or caste affiliations.

ReferencesAppadurai, Arjun. 1990. Topographies of the Self: Praise and Emotion in Hindu India. In

Language and the Politics of Emotion, edited by Catherine Lutz & Lila Abu-Lughod.pp. 92–112. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Appadurai, Arjun & Carol A. Breckenridge. 1992. Museums Are Good to Think: Heritageon View in India. In Museums and Communities: The Politics of Public Culture, edited byIvan Karp, pp. 34–55. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press.

Baskaran, S. T. 1996. The Eye of the Serpent: An Introduction to Tamil Cinema. Chennai: EastWest Books.

Bate, Bernard. 2009. Tamil Oratory and the Dravidian Aesthetic: Democratic Practice in SouthIndia. New York: Columbia University Press.

Boorstin, D. J. 1992. The Image: A Guide to Pseudo-events in America. New York: VintageBooks.

Davis, Richard H. 2007. Picturing the Nation: Iconographies of Modern India. New Delhi:Orient Longman.

Dickey, Sara. 1993a. Cinema and the Urban Poor in South India (Cambridge Studies in Socialand Cultural Anthropology). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

——. 1993b. The Politics of Adulation: Cinema and the Production of Politicians in South-India. Journal of Asian Studies, 52(2):340–72.

Dickinson, Maggie. 2008. The Making of Space, Race and Place: New York City’s Waron Graffiti, 1970 – the Present. Critique of Anthropology, 28(1):27–45.

Dirks, Nicholas B. 1993. The Hollow Crown: Ethnohistory of an Indian Kingdom. Michigan,MI: University of Michigan Press.

Eck, Diana L. 1981. Darsan: Seeing the Divine Image in India (Focus on Hinduism and Bud-dhism). Chambersburg, PA: Anima Books.

Ferrell, Jeff. 1995. Urban Graffiti: Crime, Control, and Resistance. Youth & Society,27(1):73–92.

Forrester, D.B 1976. Factions and Filmstars – Tamil Nadu Politics Since 1971. AsianSurvey, 16(3):283–96.

Freedberg, David. 1988. Iconoclasm and Painting in the Revolt of the Netherlands 1566–1609.New York: Garland.

——. 1989. The Power of Images: Studies in the History and Theory of Response. Chicago, IL:University of Chicago Press.

Freitag, Sandria B. 2007. More Than Meets the (Hindu) Eye: The Public Arena as a Spacefor Alternative Visions. In Picturing the Nation: Iconographies of Modern India, edited byRichard, H Davis, pp. 92–116. New Delhi: Orient Longman.

Gerritsen, Roos. 2006. Tamil Wedding Souvenirs of Predictive Love: Future Memories inSouth India. Etnofoor, 19(2): 5-22.

——. 2012. Fandom on Display: Intimate Visualities and the Politics of Spectacle (Dissertation).Leiden: Leiden University.

Geschiere, Peter. 2003. On Witch Doctors and Spin Doctors: The Role of ‘Experts’ inAfrican and American Politics. In Magic and Modernity: Interfaces of Revelation and


24 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

Concealment, edited by Birgit Meyer & Peter Pels, pp. 159–82. Stanford, CA: StanfordUniversity Press.

Hardgrave, R.L 1964. The DMK and the Politics of Tamil Nationalism. Pacific Affairs,37(4):396–411.

—— 1973. Politics and the Film in Tamilnadu: The Stars and the DMK. Asian Survey,13(3):288–305.

Jacob, Preminda. 1997. From Co-star to Deity: Popular Representations of JayalalithaJayaram. In Representing the Body: Gender Issues in Indian Art, pp. 140–65. NewDelhi: Kali for Women.

——. 2009. Celluloid Deities: The Visual Culture of Cinema and Politics in South India. NewDelhi: Orient Blackswan.

Jain, Kajri. 2007a. The Efficacious Image: Pictures and Power in Indian Mass Culture. InPicturing the Nation: Iconographies of Modern India, edited by Richard, H Davis,pp. 92–116. New Delhi: Orient Longman.

——. 2007b. Gods in the Bazaar: The Economies of Indian Calendar Art. Durham, NC: DukeUniversity Press.

Kellner, Douglas. 2003. Media Spectacle. New York: Routledge.Latour, Bruno. 2002. What Is Iconoclash? Or Is There a World Beyond the Image Wars?

In Iconoclash, edited by Peter Weibel & Bruno Latour, pp. 14–37. Cambridge, MA:MIT Press.

Ley, David & Roman Cybriwsky. 1974. Urban Graffiti as Territorial Markers. Annals of theAssociation of American Geographers, 64(4):491–505.

McKernan, Brian. 2011. Politics and Celebrity: A Sociological Understanding. SociologyCompass, 5(3):190–202.

Messner, Michael A. 2007. The Masculinity of the Governator: Muscle and Compassionin American Politics. Gender and Society, 21(4):461–80.

Mines, Mattison. 1994. Public Faces, Private Voices: Community and Individuality in SouthIndia. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

Mirzoeff, Nicholas. 2000. Diaspora and Visual Culture: Representing Africans and Jews.London: Routledge.

Pandian, M. S. S. 1992. The Image Trap: M.G. Ramachandran in Film and Politics. NewDelhi: Sage.

Pinney, Christopher. 2004. Photos of the Gods: The Printed Image and Political Struggle inIndia. New Delhi: Oxford University Press.

Rajagopal, Arvind. 2001. Politics After Television: Religious Nationalism and the Reshaping ofthe Indian Public. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Ramaswamy, Sumathi. 1998. Passions of the Tongue: Language Devotion in Tamil India,1891–1970. New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal.

Sivathamby, Karthigesu. 1981. The Tamil Film as a Medium of Political Communication.Chennai: New Century Book House.

Spyer, Patricia. 2008. Blind Faith: Painting Christianity in Postconflict Ambon (CharlesHirschkind and Brian Larkin, Editors). Social Text 96, 26(3):11–38.

Street, John. 1997. Politics and Popular Culture. Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press.Thimsen, A. Freya. 2010. Populist Celebrity in the Election Campaigns of Jesse Ventura

and Arnold Schwarzenegger. The Velvet Light Trap, 65(1):44–57.Thoraval, Yves. 2000. The Cinemas of India. Delhi: Macmillan India.



Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

Waghorne, Joanna. 2004. Diaspora of the Gods. New York: Oxford University Press.Widlund, Ingrid. 1993. A Vote for MGR: Transaction and Devotion in South Indian Politics.

Uppsala: Uppsala University.——. 2000. Paths to Power and Patterns of Influence: The Dravidian Parties in South Indian

Politics. Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis. Skrifter utgivna av Statsvetenskapliga forenin-gen i Uppsala. Uppsala, Sweden: Uppsala University.

Younger, P. 2001. Playing Host to Deity: Festival Religion in the South Indian Tradition.Oxford: Oxford University Press.


26 roos gerritsen

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Roo

s G

erri

tsen

] at

09:

46 0

7 Fe

brua

ry 2

014

canvases of political competition: image production as politics in tamil nadu, india

Documents