Mirage and manifestos maketh the great Indian election. For a whole month now, rappers Dinesh and RJ Prasath, better known by their stage name Comrade Gangstas, have augmented this electoral mirage by gracing street-side stages and expansive public gatherings. They broadcast their support for the INDIA Bloc, a political group with a leftist slant, through song and sentiment. Their lyrics, which extol intellectuals like Periyar and Ambedkar and often critique central government initiatives such as the Citizenship Amendment Act and sectarian violence, have been met with applause, whistles, and occasionally an eerie silence that speaks volumes.
For decades, the tradition of propaganda singers has woven itself into the fabric of Indian democracy, long before “free and fair” became hallmarks of the nation’s electoral process. These talented individuals rise from the grassroots with a fine-tuned sense of melody and the capacity to entertain crowds yearning for a reprieve amidst protracted political rhetoric. Though their mode of expression has transformed over time—now accompanied by colorful attire, harmonious backing vocals, and even rap—the essence remains. Some adhere to the party’s overarching principles, while others improvise lyrics moments before taking the stage, hired by whichever party seeks their voice.
A striking incident during the 2024 campaign trail lingers humorously in Dinesh’s memory. During a public event in Purasawalkam, as the Comrade Gangstas’ began their rhythmic rap, a group of women stood, dancing fervently, in what seemed a cathartic release. Dinesh reminisces, “We noticed in 2021 that women rarely joined in the dancing. But this time, their dancing was intense and spirited. They truly immersed themselves in our performance.”
The public meeting was teeming with dignitaries such as Tamil Nadu Cabinet Minister Sekar Babu, Chennai Mayor Priya Rajan, and the district secretary of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), G Selva. Yet the artists were encouraged to keep singing, even at the expense of the slated speakers’ time. Dinesh recalls the minister’s insistence, “Everyone must enjoy.”
Post-performance, women approached the duo expressing how these political rallies offered them a rare space for uninhibited joy. Does their contemporary, fast-paced music starkly contrast the grave, lengthy speeches typical of such events? Dinesh reflects, “Perhaps, but our message echoes the same themes. Elections may be spectacles, yet we’re here to propel the discourse with harmony and rhythm.”
Through the years, certain singers have gained particular favor. Iraianban Kuthoos, renowned for his hits supporting the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK), such as ‘Stalin Engal Stalin’, speaks of their vital role. “We must captivate the crowd with recognizable tunes and simple, digestible words,” he notes.
Iraianban, a singer who commands the stage with a sonorous, emotive Dravidian voice, recently returned from a string of campaign meetings in Tiruchi. His career as a singer has earned him various party roles focused on minority affairs, with ideology being his pathway. He highlights a proud memory on his phone: Chief Minister MK Stalin praising his debut performance four decades ago, where he sang relentlessly to pacify an impatient crowd.
Pepsi Das, another singer with an uncanny talent for spontaneous lyricism, has lent his voice to myriad political parties. His ability to make seemingly incompatible words like ‘cycle chain’ and ‘kuppai (waste) lorry’ melodically align, appeals broadly, transcending party symbols. Das, more of a musical mercenary, asserts that ideology does not inform his performances.
As the interview concludes, Das, with consummate skill, sings an impromptu medley promoting various parties, from the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) to the Congress, AIADMK, and DMK. “After my concert, you’ll find yourself humming about the candidate I introduced. My tunes have a way of sticking,” he proudly states.
These voices that echo through campaign trails are more than mere entertainment—they serve as the cultural heartbeat of Indian democracy, where music and manifestos dance hand in hand.
