Demographic shifts and the rise of Hindutva in Kanniyakumari district

A traveller entering Kanniyakumari district, at the southern tip of the country, from Tirunelveli district, will immediately sense a perceptible change in the weather. A cool breeze greets the visitor, while paddy fields—interspersed with coconut and banana groves—stretch towards the horizon, though increasingly encroached upon by real estate development.

Once celebrated as the rice bowl of the erstwhile Travancore—and annexed to Tamil Nadu in 1956—its fertility finds mention in Manonmaniam, a verse drama by P. Sundaram Pillai. “In Vanchi country lies Nanjil Nadu, and who is not aware of its immense wealth,” goes a celebrated line. In the drama, the Pandya king, eager to marry the Chera princess Manonmani, seeks Nanjil Nadu—part of present-day Kanniyakumari—as dowry.

If the natural climate is gentle, the political climate is anything but. Historically a bastion of national parties such as the Indian National Congress and the Communists, the district once elected the influential leader K. Kamaraj to the Lok Sabha after his defeat in the 1967 Assembly elections. The dominance of national parties prompted the late Chief Minister M. Karunanidhi to remark, “Nellai enathu ellai; Kumari enathu thollai” (My boundary ends with Tirunelveli; Kanniyakumari is my trouble), reflecting the early struggles of the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) in the district. Over time, however, the party consolidated its presence and even secured representation in the State Cabinet.

Today, the district once again presents a challenge—this time, from the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). The DMK and its allies—the Indian National Congress (until recently) and the Communist parties—have found it difficult to contain the BJP’s growth.

The BJP already had a representative in the State Assembly from the district: M.R. Gandhi, a veteran who played a pivotal role as an organiser. Representing the Nagercoil constituency, he had entered the fray this election season, too.

BJP victories

Kanniyakumari holds a distinctive place in Tamil Nadu’s political history. Despite nearly six decades of Dravidian dominance in the State, it became the first district to elect a Hindutva-backed candidate as early as 1989, when V. Balachandram of Hindu Desam won the Padmanabhapuram constituency. Even during the DMK’s sweeping victory in 1996, C. Velayuthan of the BJP emerged victorious. The Nagercoil Lok Sabha constituency further reinforced this trend by electing Pon. Radhakrishnan in 1999; he later served as a Union Minister under Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee. Following delimitation, the constituency—renamed Kanniyakumari—re-elected him.

The roots of the BJP’s growth in the district can be traced to the 1980s, when organisations such as the Hindu Munnani, led by Rama Gopalan and Thanulinga Nadar, began mobilising support. The district’s substantial Christian population paradoxically contributed to the consolidation of Hindu identity politics. ‘Hindu awakening’ conferences were organised, and a ban on one such event led to police firing that resulted in the death of a local autorickshaw driver. Since then, the region has become an active ground for the Sangh Parivar.

Communal tensions have also shaped the district’s political trajectory. In 1982, riots broke out in Mandaikadu, home to the Bhagavathi Amman Temple. During a temple festival, an alleged dispute between Catholic fishermen and Hindus escalated, leading to police firing in which six people were killed. The unrest spread across the district, disrupting daily life—buses were burnt, schools shut, and heavy police deployment became necessary. Then Chief Minister M.G. Ramachandran appointed a Commission of Inquiry headed by Justice Venugopal, which recommended, among other measures, the introduction of an anti-conversion law.

Christianity in the region

The religious history of the region is equally significant. Catholicism first reached the coast of the Gulf of Mannar in the early 16^th century. By around 1530, sections of the Parathavar fishermen, one of the ancient Tamils, had embraced the faith in exchange for Portuguese protection against Arab Moorish traders. As noted by Joe D Cruz, author of Korkai, this conversion was not coercive but pragmatic. The Parathavars, who traditionally practised ancestor worship, found compatibility in Catholicism’s veneration of saints. They were ardent devotees of Kumari Aatha or Amman, the presiding deity of the Kanyakumari Temple. Even centuries after their conversion, they continue the tradition of offering rope for the temple festival flag.

Protestant missionaries arrived later, focusing primarily on mainland communities such as the Nadars, an enterprising community of traders. Over time, a substantial portion of the district embraced Christianity, with interfaith marriages often resulting in conversion—though exceptions existed. Christians dominated the landscape of Kanniyakumari. They run schools and colleges, once the most sought-after educational institutions in the district. They are so powerful, that there was even an attempt to plant a cross on the rock where the memorial form Swami Vivekananda stands now. The cross was demolished. Hindus saw the incident as a threat to their religion, and Hindu revival gained momentum.

“Madhuranantha Swamigal, founder of the Vivekananda Ashramam, initiated spiritual classes aimed at fostering religious awareness and identity among Hindus. Complementing this were practices such as Vilakku Pooja—the worship of lamps—conducted during temple festivals. Women who completed these courses were conferred the title Vijaya Jothi,” said V. Umaiyorubhagan, author and historian.

Swami Chaitanyananda Maharaj, a disciple of Madhuranantha Swamigal, carried forward his work, paving the way for greater awareness and consolidation.

‘Sanskritisation’ of faith

This gradual transformation—social, cultural, and religious—has been vividly captured by Jeyamohan in his short story Maadan Motcham, which reflects the process of ‘Sanskritisation’, a term coined by sociologist M.N. Srinivas. “No temple festival, both in Vedic temples as well as folk temples, will be complete without Vilakku Pooja. This event encouraged active participation of women in temple activities,” explained folklorist A.K. Perumal.

Through references to spiritual classes and ritual practices, the narrative illustrates a reconfiguration of identity in the district—one that continues to shape its complex socio-political landscape.

“A Hindu spiritual teaching class was launched. Sornamalai Deepananda Swami blessed the people and asserted that a Hindu is a Hindu, and that caste does not matter,” writes Jeyamohan in his short story, alluding to the Vilakku Pooja and the spiritual classes initiated by Hindutva groups.

According to C. Dharamaraj, the former district president of the BJP, this awareness was first fostered by Ayya Vaikunda Swamikal of Swamithoppu, a noted social reformer credited with preventing large-scale conversion of Nadars to Christianity. However, the real momentum emerged in the 1980s, following the groundwork laid by the RSS and its affiliated organisations. Shakhas were organised in almost every village, and youths trained in these units were at the forefront of Hindutva groups’ efforts to mobilise Hindus, who increasingly began asserting their religious identity.

“Hindus have gained strength and confidence. In the last local body elections in Tamil Nadu, 76% of the votes polled by the BJP came from Kanniyakumari district. The party and the RSS are very strong here,” he said, while also acknowledging the role played by the Velimalai Swami in galvanising the Hindutva movement in the region.

Mr. Perumal explained that central to this momentum was the growing prominence of Mutharamman temples across the district. “There is hardly any village without a Mutharamman temple. Important decisions related to village life are taken in these temples, and people abide by them,” said Mr. Perumal, who has written extensively on folk deities and arts.

It is not just Mutharamman. Several folk deities—Sudalai Madan, the god of the graveyard; Muppidari Amman; Isakki Amman; Vandi Malayan and Vandi Malachi; Santhanamari Amman; and Mundan—once located on the margins of society, have gradually moved to centre stage.

Anyone visiting not just Kanniyakumari district but the southern districts as a whole will notice the proliferation of temples—at least one in every village or settlement, cutting across caste groups—constructed in the style of miniature Vedic temples. These structures typically feature a gopuram at the entrance, a sanctum sanctorum crowned by a vimana, and dwarapalakas (guardian deities) flanking the entrance.

“People’s improved economic status is reflected in these temples. Structures that were once in poor condition have been rebuilt. In many ways, these temples serve as a response to the presence of churches in Christian settlements,” said K. Gopakumar, BJP’s Kanniyakumari East district secretary.

In Irulappapuram, a newly constructed Mutharamman temple stands just a few yards away from a CSI church, visually underscoring this dynamic.

However, these transformations are often seen as departing from the core tenets of folk religion, which traditionally lacks uniform and codified modes of worship. Animal sacrifice, once integral to the worship of folk deities, has largely disappeared. “Animal sacrifice has been stopped in almost all Mutharamman temples in Kanniyakumari district. It is still practised in some temples in Tirunelveli and Thoothukudi,” said Mr. Perumal. The abandonment of such practices is widely seen as part of the process of Sanskritisation.

In the past, Sudalai Madan often had no temple structure at all. As the presiding deity of the graveyard—worshipped as an aspect of Lord Shiva—he was typically located near burial grounds, sometimes simply beneath a tree. Rituals were performed only on the last Fridays of each Tamil month. The same was true of Isakki Amman, whose shrines can still be found along riverbanks, near waterbodies, or under trees. Traditionally, rituals were conducted by priests from the local community that owned the temple. Today, however, Brahmin priests or those trained in Shaivite traditions that emphasise vegetarian practices are increasingly preferred.

Earlier, most Mutharamman temples were modest structures resembling tiled houses. Today, they have evolved into large, elaborate complexes, with villages spending substantial sums on their construction. The very concept of kumbabishekam—a consecration ritual rooted in Vedic tradition—was once absent in folk worship. Yet, it is now routinely performed, with priests chanting Vedic mantras invited to consecrate temples dedicated to folk deities.

Previously, idols were fashioned from simple materials such as sand and lime paste. With the construction of permanent temples, these have been replaced by granite idols to facilitate abhishekam—the ritual pouring of milk, curd, honey, sandal paste, and other sacred substances. In this transformation, temples of folk deities have come to symbolise a broader process of Hindu assertion in Kanniyakumari district.

All these temples celebrate Kodai—a festival normally organised during the summer—and a common feast is one of its defining features. This has led to an increased demand for folk artistes performing Naiyandi Melam, Kaniyaan Koothu, Villupattu, Thappattai, and Karunkompu. The revival of folk arts in the southern districts is often attributed to the growing prominence of folk deities among the people. Villagers from various places, including those living abroad, make it a point to participate in the festival and share a communal meal, thereby renewing their bond with the village and its deity.

This reflects the transformation that Hindutva groups have sought to achieve—and have succeeded in realising to a considerable extent. Kanniyakumari has, in many ways, served as a laboratory for experimenting with Hindu assertion, particularly in a context where demographic changes driven by religious conversion have remained a significant factor.

People are no longer dependent on Christian schools and colleges for their children’s education. Numerous private institutions, including those run by Hindu organisations, now cater to this demand. Most are affiliated with the CBSE, which gives them a perceived advantage over older Christian institutions.

Caste equations

The 10% reservation for the economically weaker sections among the open category introduced by the BJP government has further drawn caste Hindus, particularly Vellalas and Nairs, who come next to Brahmins in the caste hierarchy, towards the BJP. Children from their families are thus able to enter government jobs and professional courses, particularly government-run medical colleges after a long time, they claim.

Though the DMK, AIADMK, and Communist parties have strong organisational bases, voters in the district—except for committed party cadres—appear increasingly divided along religious lines. The DMK’s opposition to reservation for the economically weaker sections has turned many against the party in the district. A Hindu Nadar is now less likely to vote for a Christian Nadar, and other Hindus tend to prefer Hindu candidates, often from the Nadar community, which is predominant in the district.

Has this prevented religious conversion? “Not fully, but it is no longer occurring at the pace seen in the past,” said Mr. Gopakumar, reiterating his party’s demand for an anti-conversion law.

Yet, the BJP could not win in the region in the recently held Assembly polls. 

Jayamohan’s short story captures every aspect discussed in this report. In the narrative, the oracle of the Sudalai Madan temple—who once conversed regularly with the deity—becomes alienated from his favourite god after the temple comes under the control of a Hindutva group. Sudalai Madan, who relishes meat and washes it down with arrack, is instead compelled to accept paal payasam (milk pudding) after temple rituals come under Brahminical control. The deity feels nauseated by the smell of paal payasam mixed with ghee.

The oracle goads the deity to attack the Brahmin priests; Sudalai Madan raises his sickle to strike, only to realise that he cannot move from his pedestal, bound by the powerful spell of mantras. The story effectively encapsulates the broader trend in Kanniyakumari, reflecting what may be described as a success story for the BJP and the Sangh Parivar.