The eve of Tamil Nadu’s state assembly elections saw all the familiar signs of an election campaign. A large banner displayed the portrait of the incumbent chief minister M.K. Stalin in support of the ruling Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam. Another featured the actor Vijay and his Tamilaga Vettri Kazhagam, a new entrant into Tamil Nadu politics. Meanwhile, other banners bearing the image of Seeman, leader of the Tamil nationalist Naam Tamilar Katchi, could also be found. On social media, users declared their support for the candidates and argued their cases with each other. Yet those banners were not put up in any city or village in Tamil Nadu, but rather in Jaffna, Vavuniya, and Batticaloa. The social media users were Eelam Tamils, both from the homeland and in the diaspora. Although these displays of support were at times met with raised eyebrows from other Eelam Tamils, on the whole this interest was not completely out of the ordinary. However, while interest in Tamil Nadu politics has been high over the decades, that interest was exceeded by the attention amongst Eelam Tamils towards the Tamil Nadu elections this year.

Perhaps some of the attention could be explained by specific interest in the leaders. Vijay in particular attracted predictable hype from his celebrity status, having garnered millions of fans all over the world through his highly successful career in Tamil cinema. Meanwhile, Seeman is well-known for his longstanding advocacy on Eelam Tamil issues, with his own distinct brand of Tamil nationalism drawing heavily from the Tamil liberation struggle. Technology also likely played a role. In the past, the only interaction Eelam Tamils might have had with Tamil Nadu politics was from newspapers, radio, and television. The presence of social media now allows them to follow and engage alongside Tamils in Tamil Nadu in real time. However, none of these factors alone have in the past generated this much interest. The actor-turned-politician is a well-established feature in Tamil Nadu politics, as is advocacy for Eelam Tamils, and this is hardly the first election in Tamil Nadu during the age of social media. Even when taken together, these seem like insufficient explanations as to why Eelam Tamils would pay what appears to be an inordinate amount of attention to the elections in Tamil Nadu.

But Tamil Nadu voters themselves also showed increased levels of engagement, a fact best reflected in the state seeing 85% voter turnout in 2026, the highest ever recorded. On that point, there is a contrast worth considering in comparison to Sri Lanka’s most recent elections. In the presidential election, turnout in the Jaffna, Vanni, and Batticaloa districts dipped from 73% in 2019 to 71% in 2024, and in the parliamentary elections it dropped from 74% in 2020 to 65% in 2024. The latter is even more damning given that the previous parliamentary elections were held during the coronavirus pandemic. Much was made at the time about the National People’s Power winning three of the six seats in the Jaffna district in 2024, which was regarded as a major breakthrough. Yet a cursory glance at the numbers would have called that verdict into question, as the result was achieved with 25% of the vote and with the district’s voter turnout at 60%. In other words, the NPP won half the seats in the district with less than a quarter of the vote from three-fifths of the electorate. Despite the upheavals in the intervening five years, most notably Sri Lanka’s 2022 economic crisis, fewer voters in the North-East felt inclined to vote in the elections in which they were supposed to have had a direct stake.

Another revealing difference between the electoral experiences of Tamil Nadu and the North-East was the movement behind a Tamil common candidate to represent the interests of Eelam Tamils in Sri Lanka’s presidential election. Although 2024 was not the first time a Tamil candidate was put forward, the civil society-backed effort behind P. Ariyanethiran, the former Batticaloa MP who contested under the conch symbol, was the most significant in recent times. That such interest, resources, and support came to be available is perhaps itself an indicator of an evolving trend. The presence of the common candidate had a considerable impact, claiming 21% of the vote in the Jaffna, Vanni, and Batticaloa districts, and getting 218,479 votes across the North-East. In the Jaffna district, Ariyanethiran received 31% of the vote, finishing a close second behind Sajith Premadasa’s 33% and winning several polling divisions such as Nallur, Vaddukkodai, and Point Pedro. This performance was all the more impressive given that the common candidate did not have the support of some of the larger Tamil parties.

In the context of Tamil Nadu, however, the notion of a common candidate would seem nonsensical. There, each of the parties and coalitions that seek to form government can credibly claim in some way to be representative of the voters living there. That kind of representation is normal in healthier democratic systems with more robust electoral competition. But for Tamils in the North-East, this representation does not exist at the presidential level and has not achieved much at the parliamentary level. The familiar picture in every Sri Lankan election is the electoral map being divided between the North-East and the south. In presidential contests, the former votes for what is supposedly the lesser evil, with the choice of the latter usually emerging victorious, as demonstrated in the elections of Mahinda Rajapaksa in 2010, Gotabaya Rajapaksa in 2019, and Anura Kumara Dissanayake in 2024. Even in the rare instance of 2015 where Tamil votes contributed to electoral victories, with the election of Maithripala Sirisena as president, the Tamil National Alliance winning 16 seats in parliament, and TNA leader R. Sampanthan becoming leader of the opposition, the ultimate result was still little in the way of substantive progress on any of the long-standing demands of the Tamil people regarding self-determination and justice. 

For Tamils then, their choice of candidates does not matter, either immediately in that they have little chance of winning, or eventually in that they have no hope of delivering. Regardless of the outcome of any election, the will of Tamils in the North-East is inconsequential to the government that purports to represent them. This apparent futility has contributed to a great deal of disillusionment amongst Tamils with Sri Lanka’s political process. This could be seen, not just in the decreased turnout and the common candidate, but also in the decline of established parties, the rise of independent candidates, and the fracturing of the political landscape. It is this disillusionment that can go some way in explaining why Tamils in the North-East paid greater attention to the elections in Tamil Nadu. If Sri Lanka’s elections are not seen as meaningfully representative of their attitudes and legitimately capable of fulfilling their aspirations, it is understandable that Eelam Tamils would turn their gaze elsewhere. 

Regardless of the outcome of any election, the will of Tamils in the North-East is inconsequential to the government that purports to represent them. This apparent futility has contributed to a great deal of disillusionment amongst Tamils with Sri Lanka’s political process.

This redirection is not necessarily constructive, as it can veer into escapism from Sri Lanka’s seemingly futile politics, rather than towards a considered deliberation of Tamil Nadu and its politics. This is unfortunate, as Eelam Tamils have long understood Tamil Nadu as a singularly vital part of their political struggle — their efforts in that arena are almost as old as their struggle itself. There are signs that this approach is being rediscovered, as over the past year, Eelam Tamil politicians have travelled to Tamil Nadu to meet with various political leaders there. This too is in part a product of the aforementioned disillusionment. Among their constituents in the North-East, it is a greater indication of the credibility and legitimacy of their leaders that they are seen engaging with Tamil Nadu rather than with Colombo. That should not be surprising considering the failed track record of the Colombo-centred approach over the past seventeen years. 

It is often correctly observed that statements from Tamil Nadu on Eelam Tamil issues usually constitute more in words than in action. Yet it should also be noted that even those mere words are far more in tune with the Eelam Tamil polity than the words emanating from Colombo, whether from the politicians representing southern Sri Lanka or the foreign diplomats based there. There is a very simple reason for this: most political actors in Tamil Nadu feel compelled, whether out of conviction or calculation, to at least appear sympathetic to Eelam Tamils because enough of their voters genuinely harbour such sympathies. Those sorts of political pressures are recognisable in any representative democracy and can also be seen in Colombo, where elected governments can be inclined towards a more hawkish line on Eelam Tamil issues, because enough of their voters desire it as well. 

There is a widespread narrative among many Sri Lankans that the country’s ethnic conflict is something that was manufactured by unscrupulous politicians, and that the people across ethnic lines do not possess conflicting or diverging interests from one another. Such hand-waving does not pass muster. In a representative democracy such as Sri Lanka, the state’s still-ongoing effort to subjugate the Eelam Tamil nation, spanning many decades and culminating in genocide, has to be accepted on some level as a consistent demonstration of the continual mandates given to it by the people of southern Sri Lanka. It is not so much that Sri Lankan governments have been unrepresentative of their constituents, but rather that Tamils in the North-East cannot be regarded as really being among them. The fact that they too can vote in elections every four years does not change that.

A small token of the differences in representation came after the Tamil Nadu elections, the results of which were announced two weeks before the annual Tamil Genocide commemorations on May 18. As the newly elected chief minister, Vijay, unlike his predecessors, issued a message of remembrance and solidarity with Eelam Tamils. Many other politicians in Tamil Nadu did the same, sometimes in more earnest and forthright terms, with commemorations held across the state. President Dissanayake, on the other hand, very much like his predecessors, chose to mark ‘Victory Day’ by praising Sri Lanka’s armed forces for their conduct and denying that any genocide took place. In this perhaps trivial instance, it would seem that some of those in the North-East who put up banners for an election that was not theirs were better represented than many of those who cast ballots in the election that supposedly was. This will likely be the case for the foreseeable future.