The struggle for freedom is a chapter from history that we are all familiar with. While the revolutionaries conducted boycotts, hunger strikes, and rallies, the patriotic feeling was also evoked through the news being circulated via radio. As years passed, came the pen warriors, whose articles published in regional papers — some even printed in secret — and pamphlets, reached everyone. The words made a difference. Decades later, there is a shift in how news is consumed — from turning pages to scrolling down feeds.
Today, while the country is striding towards development, technological advancements are also catching up, reshaping the channels through which a common man raises his voice. What started as distributing leaflets, painting graffiti, and marching towards government buildings has become hashtags, reels, and posts — activism has seeped into the digital realm, with social media now taking centre stage in public discourse.
A recent example is the youth-led protest in Nepal, which offers a glimpse of how digital mobilisation can topple power structures. When the ‘Gen Z protesters’ took to the streets, it resulted in the ‘selection’ of Sushila Karki as the interim Prime Minister, who took oath on September 12. This decision was reached through online voting conducted on another social media platform, Discourse.
“What happened in Nepal is what can happen when a nation is in complete distortion in terms of unemployment, corruption, and nepotism,” observes Jayaram Venkatesan, convenor of Arappor Iyakkam. “The protesting youngsters negotiated with the army and ensured a transfer of power, at least temporarily. It shows us how much young people value freedom of speech, a fundamental right for all people.
Language of activism
For generations, we have seen citizens being introduced to a new medium as a means to understand crucial political moves — that have a direct or indirect impact on them — and to use them to reach masses, eventually the top-most leader.
To showcase dissent, we relied on oral traditions and physical gatherings. “In the pre-literate world, oral communication was the main mode of participation — under a tree, street, or open grounds — in political discourse and mobilisation. Memory and storytelling shaped how movements grew,” says SS Sundaram, professor and head, Department of Indian History, University of Madras. Prof Thenmozhi from Pudhucherry adds, “Political activism in India has always relied on oral communication like folk songs, kirtans, ballads, or even theatre.”
Theatre plays were conversational and layered with symbols, metaphors, and social critique. M Dinesh Balaji, assistant professor and head, Department of Visual Communication, Don Bosco Arts and Science College, explains that street plays and dramas were crucial in educating the masses in the state on social and political issues. “During Annadurai’s career, MR Radha was a popular stage actor. From stage plays came street plays, where these actors turned the corners from one street to another to put up plays on different issues,” he says.
These dramas had an important character called ‘Kattayakaran’. He was a joker and would be seen in all the street plays. His main objective was to criticise the play. “Even if the play is set in a different timeline, he spoke about the contemporary world. They would scold the government officials and outsiders. Apart from this, Paraiattam was used to spread messages,” he adds.
Though these stages served a purpose, they were not seen as an art form, but as propaganda. “Street plays were restricted for a while by the government, stating that Naxalites use this medium to spread their ideologies,” shares Dinesh. Now, while street plays may have reduced in the urban areas, Therukuthu is still a popular folk art in villages in the state.
Continuity and change
Activism, arguments, and action found new forms with changing times and need because commonly spread methods were restricted or banned. Temple bells, beating plates, and graffiti have become means of the past. “More than graffiti, wall painting and posters act as a revolutionary medium, criticising political moves and announcements. They had a combination of orange, blue, red, black, and white colours, each denoting a different symbol and message. Which wall had which painting was also a message. It has had a cultural impact in our country,” explains Dinesh.
At political gatherings and meetings, posters were tied to wooden poles. They were then tied to a cycle’s tire and stationed at the spot. Similarly, posters were also tied to tree branches. This practice is still common in villages.
Another recent development, also a traditional practice, is the coded t-shirts. Dinesh cites the most recent example: “The ‘Hindi theriyadhu poda’ t-shirt was a silent protest against the three-language imposition policy by the central government. The colours of borders on a veshti are also a political statement. A sportsperson’s jersey is a silent remark on a political issue. In villages, the boys wear t-shirts with a message, and on them they wear a coloured jersey — that denotes their caste and class — in competitions. When they win, they remove the jersey to show the message. This is shown in Mari Selvaraj’s movies.”
But, when it comes to resisting a political move that has an impact on everybody, people unite without any caste or class differences. “During the Jallikattu protest, nobody knew who was from which caste or class. But if you go to Madurai, individuals from the SC and ST communities are not allowed to touch the bulls,” notes Dinesh. On the surface level, everyone is fighting for a central issue, but when it comes to the fruits of the victory, the hands that are raised to chant a slogan have to be folded and are shushed away.”
A thread that binds loosely
Political protest has been entwined with performance and symbolism in Tamil Nadu. They were rooted in physical presence, in shared voices and collective memory. “Conventional organising gave depth to the movements. You had to go to the people, talk to them, and build a collective consciousness around issues,” says Jayaram.
For instance, movements like the Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan (MKSS), which fought for the Right to Information, relied on public hearings and social audits. People gathered to check if their wages had been paid and noted them down. This groundwork led to a powerful law in 2005.
Similarly, decades-long struggles by farmers and tribal communities culminated in the 2013 Land Acquisition Act and the 2006 Forest Rights Act, respectively. “Many Acts that empower people came from practicing conventional methods of fighting, through organising people and protests. They did social orders, rallies, marching towards the government buildings, organising protests at different points of time, along with continuous negotiation with the government to come up with a solution,” he notes.
Despite the changing mediums, the core of activism remains the same. Awareness creation, leadership, mobilisation, and striving for a common goal. What has changed is the speed, reach, and risks. With it came the challenge of misinformation. “Even genuine efforts face attacks. The government or powerful actors with money can drown organic movements in misinformation. That is our biggest challenge,” says Jayaram.
Amid the challenges, social media is a rebirth of traditional media employed for showcasing resistance, Thenmozhi states, “Folk songs have a deep-rooted history in our system. They are being reintroduced in the digital world. Oppari, a mourning song, is now used to spread political messages. For instance, folk singer S Kovan released a song on the ill effects of the government’s liquor policy on his social media handle. He was arrested when the song went viral.”
From pamphlets in colonial India to the young protesters on social media, the human instinct to resist, mobilise, and demand justice continues. As Sundaram puts it, “The human mind is ingenious, and messages will always find their way through countless means."
[Article by Sonu M Kothari of The New Indian Express. Views expressed are their own]