The Dignity Turn: Kerala At The Crossroads As Shifting Aspirations, Politics, Reshape Future

Kerala stands at a crucial historical moment, where questions about its political and aspirational future are being debated not only in policy circles but also in everyday conversations among its youth, professionals and political observers. The discourse on the idea of the “future of Kerala” today is inseparable from three interconnected processes: large-scale youth (men and women) migration, radical shift in political imaginations, and changing expectations about leadership, communication and social mobility.

Kerala is increasingly witnessing a crisis of “aspirational breakdown” among its youth, where the disjuncture between high educational attainment and limited employment opportunities produces deep psychological distress. Despite the state’s celebrated achievements in literacy and human development, structural unemployment and intense academic competition generate, what can be termed as “pressure-cooker anxiety”. Published empirical data indicating significant levels of adolescent distress and rising suicide rates point to a broader condition of affective vulnerability, especially among the youth in Kerala. Educational spaces, rather than functioning as avenues of mobility, often become sites of anxiety, performance pressure and self-doubt. Simultaneously, the shrinking horizon of local employment intensifies feelings of stagnation and existential uncertainty. In this context, rising mental health struggles in Kerala are not merely individual pathologies but symptoms of a larger structural crisis, where unmet aspirations, social expectations and institutional inadequacies converge.

The above-mentioned issues have resulted in a dramatic reconfiguration of youth migration patterns in Kerala. In the new context, youth migration emerges as both an escape and a coping strategy, reflecting a loss of faith in local futures. From what I termed “brain expansion” elsewhere, it has now become “brain fatigue”, where migration became an act of retribution from a feeling of contribution—a shift where educated youth, once eager to build the state, now feel exhausted, undervalued, and structurally constrained. It prompts them to seek recognition, dignity and meaningful futures beyond Kerala. While earlier generations migrated predominantly to the Gulf countries in the ‘70s—always with the intention of returning—the current generation is increasingly oriented toward the Global North, including Europe, North America and Australia. This shift is not merely geographical; it represents a transformation in aspiration. Today’s migrants from Kerala are not just seeking employment but a different quality of life—what many perceive as stability, dignity, institutional efficiency, and long-term security through citizenship and permanent residency.

Scholars have described this phenomenon as “smart migration,” a strategic and calculated phenomenon, driven by long-term planning rather than immediate necessity. Unlike earlier waves of Gulf migration—structured by circular mobility, remittance economies, and an enduring moral economy of return—contemporary youth migration from Kerala is increasingly marked by a decisive rupture with the idea of return itself. This shift carries deep demographic consequences for a state already characterised by advanced ageing and declining fertility. The emergence of so-called “ghost houses” across rural and semi-urban landscapes, especially in southern Kerala, thus, indexes more than physical absence. It reflects a deeper erosion of intergenerational co-presence and lack of ‘home’-desire. In many places, entire households relocate, or, the elderly are left behind in socially thinned environments. It marks a stark departure from the earlier kinship-sustaining migration pattern. In this sense, migration is no longer embedded within a cycle of return and reinvestment but signals a structural unmooring of community, producing what may be termed as “affective hollowing”.

Here, migration becomes more than an economic response. It has become a socio-cultural critique of what many young people perceive as a constrained environment within Kerala. Limited opportunities, bureaucratic inertia, and rigid social expectations contribute to a sense of suffocation among sections of the youth. For many young women in particular, migration represents not only career advancement but also an escape from entrenched structures of patriarchy and social control. For them, it becomes an aspirational project—a way forward towards autonomy, self-realisation, and the ability to shape one’s own life. Disappointingly, the assembly election manifestos released just a week before the elections, 2026, by the Left Democratic Front, the United Democratic Front and the National Democratic Alliance fail to adequately engage with or address these deeply pressing concerns.

Parallel to these transformations in migration and aspiration, Kerala’s political landscape is also undergoing subtle but important changes. Historically, the state has been marked by a strong tradition of political engagement, ideological commitment, and relatively stable support for Left and centrist formations. However, there is now a growing sense among sections of society that these political traditions may be reaching a point of saturation. Among traditional supporters of the Left, as well as communities that have long aligned with the Congress, questions are increasingly being raised about the future. What can these political formations offer in terms of economic advancement, job creation, and global competitiveness? For many young professionals and job seekers—especially those looking beyond Kerala—political affiliation is no longer solely about ideology. It is also about tangible outcomes and opportunities.

In this context, new political imaginaries are emerging. The expansion of digital media has played a crucial role in this transformation. Over the past two decades, the proliferation of social media platforms, visual content, and algorithm-driven communication has reshaped how politics is consumed and understood. The BJP, once a peripheral force in Kerala, has been able to extend their reach into new social and geographical spaces, particularly in areas where grassroots political engagement by other parties has weakened. These shifts are not merely about electoral politics; they are also about perception and aspiration. For some sections of the youth, the Bharatiya Janata Party is increasingly seen as a potential vehicle for upward mobility and professional growth—an image actively curated and circulated through digital narratives. Even though this is far from reality, given the chaos in BJP-controlled states, a substantial section of youth in Kerala appears willing to experiment with it, signalling a significant transformation in the state’s political imagination.

Amidst these structural changes, another dimension of Kerala’s evolving public life demands attention: the nature of political communication and leadership. The ways in which leaders speak, respond to criticism, and engage with opponents are becoming increasingly important in shaping public perception. This article is written at a moment when Kerala Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan stands at the centre of a major controversy after directing an abusive remark—“Dash-Mone”—at the Chief Minister of Telangana, a term widely regarded by Malayalis as a derogatory slur. This is only the latest in a series of performative linguistic acts through which Vijayan has sought to symbolically discipline political opponents who critique, challenge, or defect. Popular jokes wryly suggest that Vijayan appears to be constructing a lexicon of political abuse—with terms such as chetta (uncouth), chettatharam (uncouth behaviour), paranari (wretched), kulamkutthi (traitor) and nikrishta jeevi (vile creature)—to address his critics.

Far from signalling strength, such political practices index a contraction of political imagination, wherein dehumanising language functions as a technology of power that substitutes for deliberative engagement, revealing a regime burdened by anxiety, fragility and eroding democratic norms. The recourse to abusive speech can be read as symptomatic of deeper psychic and political insecurities—where intolerance of dissent, fear of losing authority, and the inability to metabolise criticism produce a defensive communicative style that seeks to bring back dominance. From a broader perspective, this reflects a tension between older styles of political communication and the expectations of a rapidly changing political supporters.

However, my engagement with university students (Millennials and Gen Z) in the capacity of a university professor, reveals a markedly different set of expectations from them. For many young people, abusive language from senior leaders appears outdated, unprofessional and indicative of weak emotional intelligence and affective vocabulary. It undermines credibility and signals a lack of preparedness to engage in meaningful dialogue with the future generation who are already frustrated, irritated and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. They, shaped by digital space and exposure to diverse viewpoints, place a premium on respectful, inclusive and accountable communication from the older generation. These young people are less willing to accept authority unquestioningly and more inclined to challenge it openly. When leaders resort to insults or slurs, many young people interpret it as a failure of leadership and integrity, and they feel “they have no business with them”. The result is often disengagement, or a shift in support toward figures who embody civility, decency, dignity and clarity.

The Right to Dignity

While political parties in Kerala, especially the Left Democratic Front, remain anchored in a discourse of welfarism, youth from minority and Dalit communities are articulating a qualitatively different demand: the right to dignity. Unlike many other regions in India, where welfare and “freebies” are framed as acts of benevolence, in Kerala’s politically conscious and highly educated public sphere they are increasingly interpreted as entitlements—subject to critical scrutiny, particularly when dispensed in proximity to electoral cycles. This sensibility is historically sedimented within a long genealogy of dignity-centred discourse, shaped by 19th-century reformers such as Sree Narayana Guru, Sanaulla Makthi Thangal, and Mahatma Ayyankali, and subsequently refracted through communist movements and broader intellectual turns in the state. The emerging consolidation of Muslims, Christians, and substantial sections of Dalit and Adivasi groups in support of the United Democratic Front reflects a shared perception of the erosion of dignity under current governance. Heightened minority anxiety, accommodations of minorityphobics within the Left, and the persistence of caste-based violence have collectively changed their scattered political loyalties, producing a collective reorientation toward leaders and parties that more convincingly deploy the language and promises of dignity and creative aspirations.

(Views expressed are personal)

P. K. Yasser Arafath is a historian and writer who engages with contemporary social and political issues. A Fulbright Scholar, he teaches at the University of Delhi.

This article appeared in Outlook’s April 21 issue, 'I ran to bomb Iran, but instead I ran' which looked at the US-Israel war on Iran and what it means for families living through it and what is at stake in the states going to elections in the first phase.