It has been years since the iron-willed matriarch of Tamil Nadu, J. Jayalalithaa — lovingly called Amma by millions — left the political stage. Yet, even in her absence, the aura of her leadership, her unwavering resolve, and the depth of her connection with the common people of Tamil Nadu still linger like a sacred memory. Tamil Nadu, a state of extraordinary culture, language pride, and political awakening, is in dire need of revival — not merely of its economic trajectory, but of its identity, assertiveness, and vision. And in these turbulent times, many across the state whisper a recurring thought: If only Amma were here again.
Jayalalithaa was not just the face of AIADMK; she was the soul of a movement — a movement that gave voice to women, uplifted the poor, and made Tamil Nadu a state that held its own against Delhi’s power corridors. She stood as a formidable force, one that could not be intimidated, one that knew how to assert regional interests on the national stage. She was, in many ways, the final word in Tamil Nadu politics for over two decades.
Her leadership was not transactional. It was transformational. She was not swayed by political correctness or the pressure of elite narratives. She governed with a mix of sternness and compassion. And most importantly, she governed with clarity — clarity about Tamil Nadu’s place in India, about the state’s economic priorities, and about the dignity of its people.
Critics often reduced her governance to ‘populism,’ citing the famous Amma canteens, Amma salt, Amma pharmacies, and a dozen other welfare schemes. But to dismiss these initiatives as political gimmickry is to ignore the strategy behind them.
Jayalalithaa knew her people — not from drawing rooms, but from the dust-laden streets of every village and ward in the state. Her policies targeted food insecurity, healthcare access, women’s empowerment, and micro-entrepreneurship. Her government made the state safer for women and more inclusive for the poor.
The Cradle Baby Scheme, aimed at ending female infanticide, remains one of the most humane social reforms by any Indian politician. Her efforts to provide scooters to working women, marriage assistance schemes, and housing for the poor weren’t just populist offerings — they were instruments of dignity.
Jayalalithaa was unapologetically Tamil and yet deeply Indian. She embodied the Dravidian pride without succumbing to separatist rhetoric. In a time when Tamil Nadu risks being pulled into identity extremism, Amma’s balanced politics stands out in contrast. She was proud of her language and her land, but she also believed in the strength of federal India. She could challenge the Centre on matters of state rights with eloquence and grit, yet work with successive Prime Ministers — be it Vajpayee or Modi — with mutual respect.
Today, as Tamil Nadu struggles with a leadership vacuum that often seems more interested in theatrics than governance, Amma’s strategic diplomacy and firm positioning are sorely missed.
Since her passing in December 2016, AIADMK has splintered and stumbled. Once the dominant political force in the state, it now appears rudderless — lacking the coherence, vision, and magnetism that Amma brought. The opposition has grown louder, more chaotic, and less focused on governance. Internal squabbles, shifting loyalties, and ideological confusion plague the party she once built brick by brick with her sheer will.
DMK, under the leadership of M. K. Stalin, has certainly held power with democratic mandate, but even staunch DMK supporters confess in hushed tones that the absence of a leader like Jayalalithaa has made the politics of Tamil Nadu less dynamic and less accountable. Her sharp retorts in the Assembly, her unmatched oratory, and her grip on administration kept all political players on their toes.
Today, no one in the state legislature commands the same respect, fear, and charisma.
Jayalalithaa’s rise to power was not just a political story — it was a cultural revolution. In a male-dominated political sphere, especially in South India, she emerged as a powerful icon who not only shattered glass ceilings but made the political arena her own.
She bore humiliations with stoic grace, faced multiple betrayals, was jailed and vilified, yet each time she came back stronger. Tamil women saw in her not just a politician but a guardian — someone who protected their rights, dignity, and access to opportunity. Her mere presence in power gave confidence to a generation of women to dream beyond societal boundaries.
In today’s political discourse, where lip service to women’s rights is abundant but action sparse, Amma’s legacy stands as a beacon of what empowered governance actually looks like.
One of Jayalalithaa’s most important traits was her decisiveness. Whether it was on industrial development, law and order, inter-state water disputes, or Centre-State relations — she took stands. Not always popular, but always principled. She was feared and admired in equal measure, and that brought a sense of stability.
Tamil Nadu today is battling unemployment, agricultural distress, law and order concerns, and a growing sense of regional-cultural anxiety. What it needs is not another populist leader with a PR machine. It needs an administrator, a protector, a strategist — in short, it needs Amma.
Her style of governance would have been a bulwark against the rise of cultural radicalism. She believed in temples and traditions, yet stood firm against communal polarization. She had the ability to pull diverse groups together — minorities, women, backward classes, and entrepreneurs — into a single vision for Tamil Nadu’s development.
Amma was a voice to those who had no voice. Her fan base wasn’t cultivated through social media algorithms or carefully curated influencer campaigns. It was built over decades of street-level politics, where she met her people, heard them, and acted on their concerns.
In the villages of Tamil Nadu, many still hang her portrait in their homes — not out of nostalgia, but out of gratitude. For them, Amma was not a politician. She was family.
Tamil Nadu does not just miss Jayalalithaa; it needs her spirit to be reborn in its leadership. Whether through a worthy successor or a reinvigoration of her political ideals within AIADMK, the people of the state are waiting for someone who can carry the mantle forward. Not a shadow of Amma, but someone forged in her vision.
As India marches toward becoming a global power, Tamil Nadu cannot afford to be adrift in rudderless politics. It must anchor itself once again in visionary, compassionate, and firm leadership.
And in that search, there is no doubt that Amma is not just missed — she is desperately needed.
