Rejecting the DMK in future elections is not about aligning with another party—it’s about drawing a line in the sand. It’s about declaring that no matter how powerful a party may be, it cannot and will not thrive if it continues to fail half the population.
Tamil Nadu has long taken pride in its progressive heritage—especially its historic movements for social justice and equality. Yet, recent incidents involving members of the ruling Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) reflect a troubling disconnect between those ideals and the everyday reality for women in the state. At the centre of this disquiet is Tamil Nadu’s Higher Education Minister, K. Ponmudi, who reportedly made a deeply derogatory statement likening women to prostitutes—a remark that, if left unchallenged, strikes at the core of women’s dignity across Tamil Nadu.
This isn’t an isolated slip of the tongue. Rather, it’s part of a larger, disturbing pattern—one of misogyny, indifference, and political arrogance—that women in Tamil Nadu can no longer afford to ignore.
Ponmudi, a senior leader in the DMK, sparked outrage with his comment equating women’s morality to that of sex workers, ostensibly as a political analogy. Regardless of his intent—be it rhetorical or metaphorical—the comparison was offensive, elitist, and unapologetically sexist. That such language is being used by a public official in 2025, when the political discourse should centre on women’s dignity, safety, and equality, is not just irresponsible—it’s dangerous.
This kind of rhetoric reinforces a deeply patriarchal worldview—one that reduces women to moral symbols to be judged, controlled, and discarded when politically inconvenient. For some political leaders, it seems, women are nothing more than props in their speeches—useful for theatrics, but irrelevant when it comes to respect.
While Ponmudi’s remark may have drawn recent headlines, it’s just the latest in a series of misogynistic episodes involving DMK leaders.
In 2022, DMK functionary Saidai Sadiq referred to BJP women leaders as “items”—a crude, objectifying comment that ignited public fury. Although MP Kanimozhi issued an apology, the party’s failure to immediately suspend Sadiq sent a clear and chilling message: women’s dignity is secondary to party loyalty.
Go back to 2013, and we find DMK MLA A.M.H. Nazeem casting aspersions on a gang rape survivor, cruelly suggesting it might be a case of prostitution. Comments like these not only vilify survivors but actively discourage others from coming forward.
Even within the party, the treatment of women has raised serious concerns. In 2018, a woman member of the DMK youth wing publicly alleged sexual harassment during a party demonstration. The party’s silence in response spoke volumes.
But beyond verbal misogyny lies an even more disturbing trend: the rise in violence against women under the DMK regime. From molestation to rape to domestic abuse, these crimes have not only surged but often go unaddressed—ignored by a political establishment more concerned with protecting its image than its citizens.
The National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) data for 2022 paints a grim picture: Crimes against women rose by 8.3% in Tamil Nadu. Rape cases jumped by 31%. Child marriages increased by 55%. Crimes against children rose by 8.5%.
These are not just statistics—they reflect a systematic failure to protect women and children. Instead of confronting this reality, the DMK has focused on shielding its ministers and discrediting those who dare to question them. Activists, journalists, and opposition leaders raising these issues are dismissed as politically motivated or accused of character assassination.
For a party that once claimed to be a torchbearer of social justice, this is nothing short of betrayal.
The DMK has long styled itself as a progressive force—advocating rationalism, equity, and inclusion. But these ideals ring hollow when women within the party are objectified, silenced, or harassed. It’s easy to speak of justice from a podium; it’s far harder to practice it in party politics and governance.
What message does it send when powerful men reduce women to political metaphors? When misogynistic remarks are tolerated and perpetrators shielded? It tells women that their value lies only in their obedience—that they must not question, protest, or demand accountability.
But Tamil Nadu’s women are far from passive. They are politically aware, outspoken, and among the most engaged citizens in the country. From spearheading grassroots movements to leading local governance, running self-help groups, and excelling in education and business—they’ve rewritten the narrative.
Yet the fight for respect and representation continues.
Now is the time for women across Tamil Nadu to recognize the true power of their vote—not as gratitude for welfare schemes, but as a stand for justice and dignity.
Rejecting the DMK in future elections is not about aligning with another party—it’s about drawing a line in the sand. It’s about declaring that no matter how powerful a party may be, it cannot and will not thrive if it continues to fail half the population.
Tamil Nadu’s political future must not be built on patriarchy. If the DMK wishes to reclaim its progressive mantle, it must begin by cleaning house—removing those who degrade women and actively fostering a culture of equality, safety, and respect.
Until then, the women of Tamil Nadu must rise—not only in anger, but in collective action. In their homes. In their communities. And most crucially, in the ballot booth.
Because a political party that does not honour your voice, your body, or your dignity—does not deserve your vote.
* Savio Rodrigues is the Founder and Editor-in-Chief of Goa Chronicle.