Pinarayi Vijayan: The Man Who Transformed Kerala
“ Enthoru mattam (What an incredible change)!” It’s what a visiting expatriate, dazzled by Kerala’s road network, reportedly remarked to Pinarayi Vijayan. The Chief Minister often falls back on the phrase, turning it both into a personal endorsement of his decade-long term and a punchline that anchors the ruling Left Democratic Front’s (LDF) campaign for the upcoming Kerala Assembly elections. Ahead of the 2021 elections, Vijayan was projected as the captain of a state caught in a stormy sea of crises – floods, Nipah, cyclone Ockhi, the Covid pandemic. Now, after another term in office, he is being pitched as the man who transformed Kerala. On reels and roadside banners, the CPI(M)’s poll slogan is, “if not LDF, then who?” Given Vijayan’s complete hold over his party and government, the question might as well be, “If not Vijayan, then who?” Despite this apparent confidence, as Vijayan aims for a third term, he can’t afford to leave anything to chance. The alleged theft and misappropriation of gold in Sabarimala, combined with the setback in the local polls, have left the CPM with a job on its hands. In the last leg of the campaign, the 81-year-old Vijayan has been crisscrossing the state, addressing four rallies a day ahead of the April 9 election. On March 30, as his SUV rolled into a convention ground at Kottarakkara in the southern district of Kollam, party candidate K N Balagopal paused his speech and extended a brief welcome. As he stepped out of the vehicle, party workers raised their clenched fists and shouted, “Comrade Vijayan, lead us”, “Salute to Pinarayi Vijayan ’’. Without stopping to greet any of the leaders waiting for him, Vijayan walked straight up to the stage. After a one-line welcome from a local leader, Vijayan laid out his government’s achievements in a calm, flat tone. Urging the crowd to back Balagopal, he wrapped up his speech and walked off as the others on the dais stood up and watched with a mix of awe and reverence. No selfies, no handshakes, no embraces. Vijayan’s campaign style reflects his persona — minimalist, disciplined, and focused. Vijayan’s rise from Pinarayi village, the site of the first official meeting of the undivided Communist Party of India in 1939, in north Kerala’s Kannur district, to the highest office in the state is a textbook case of political consolidation and power centralisation in a cadre party. At key moments in his six-decade political journey, faced with rebellious leaders and factions, Vijayan stuck steadfastly to the party line. It didn’t matter who was on the other side – friend, foe or mentor – Vijayan rarely let emotions come in the way, earning him the hardliner tag. In 1986, when CPI(M) rebel M V Raghavan posed a challenge to the party in its citadel Kannur, Vijayan, then district secretary, displayed his organisational prowess to prevent the flow of party workers to the outfit of his former mentor. With the support of CPI(M) workers, he ensured that Raghavan, a redoubtable leader, did not take control of party offices in the district. In a twist of fortunes, Raghavan’s son M V Nikesh Kumar is now in charge of the party’s social media campaign. Another landmark in his political journey was in 1996, when he became the electricity minister in the CPI(M) government led by E K Nayanar. Two years later, he stepped down from the Cabinet to become the party state secretary following the death of incumbent Chadayan Govindan. It was V S Achuthanandan, then a power hub in the party, who handpicked Vijayan for the key slot as a counter to the CITU lobby within the party. Within a few years, both leaders, hailing from the same Ezhava Hindu community, pulled apart. For the next 15 years, Kerala’s politics was dominated by the rift between Achuthanandan and Vijayan. While Achuthanandan turned into a mass leader, Vijayan refused to play to the gallery, instead, placing the party and its discipline above anything else. Several leaders who owed their allegiance to VS were removed from the party. At the same time, Vijayan had no qualms falling back on VS’s popularity during the election campaigns of 2006 and 2011. By 2015, when Vijayan demitted the office after being the longest serving party state secretary, he had silenced even the last feeble voice of opposition within the CPI(M). By 2016, when he was voted to power, the CPI(M) had coalesced around Vijayan. With no effective challenger and the party weakening elsewhere in the country, the Kerala unit of the CPI(M) that he controlled became stronger than ever before. Now, after a decade in power, it’s hard to distinguish the man from the party in Kerala, the only state where the CPI(M) is in power. Under him, administrative efficiency became a habit rather than a slogan. With the organisation already in his grip, Vijayan neutralised the belligerence of the party, its trade union outfit CITU and the student wing SFI to carry out a slew of reforms in the industrial and education sectors. Nooku cooli (workers demanding wages without working) was banned and loss of working days due to labour unrest came down. In the state-run road transport corporation, notorious for strikes and trade union dominance, the government hired bus crew on daily wages. Norms were eased, procedural bottlenecks were cleared for ease of doing business, industrial parks were expanded and startups were encouraged through the Kerala Startup Mission. The CPI(M) also shed its obstructionist approach to Central infrastructure projects that were delayed for several years due to party-led protests – from the GAIL pipeline to land acquisition for National Highways. Road projects, including National Highways and the state’s Hill Highway (a north-south road corridor to connect remote hilly areas), were put on track. At the CPI(M) state conference held in 2025, Vijayan’s clout helped him get his development agenda cleared by the party. Unusually for a CPM conference, the focus was on industrial policy, infrastructure, investment, and welfare delivery, rather than cadre discipline or organisational restructuring. But the most radical and controversial of Vijayan’s fiscal policies was reinventing the Kerala Infrastructure Investment Fund (KIIFB) from an infrastructure agency to a channel for off- budget borrowing to fund projects that were in the limbo for want of financial allocation. KIIFB issued masala bonds on the London Stock Exchange, raising Rs 2,150 crore and signalling a shift to a market-intensive development approach for a party that has shied away from the global capital market. While the Centre reduced Kerala’s borrowing ceiling, the government pumped the funds raised by KIIFB into the state’s public education and health systems. KIIFB funds were also used to build roads and bridges across the state, and to acquire land for road widening – laying the foundation for one of the most visible makeovers in the state. Kerala’s six-laned national highways won the government praise from several quarters, including Union Minister Nitin Gadkari . While development and governance initiatives took the middle class closer to the party, the government unwrapped a bouquet of social welfare schemes and improved on the existing ones to reach out to the marginalised sections. At least 30 per cent of the population (around one crore of 2.69 crore voters) is covered by direct social security assistance of some kind, with 81 per cent of the beneficiaries in rural areas. Those close to him say that in a state where leaders face constant political scrutiny, Vijayan wasn’t scared to be disruptive. CPI(M) parliamentary party leader John Brittas says, “Kerala politics has always been captive to the image politics of its leaders. Be it A K Antony or Oommen Chandy, they were more concerned about their image than delivery of governance. Kerala lagged in infrastructure development because of this. However, Pinarayi Vijayan just bulldozed through it. It brought him ridicule and criticism from his opponents, but he withstood them.” Yet, critics cite this very ability to push through his agenda as evidence of authoritarianism. They also point to his reluctance to nurture a strong second-rung leadership despite helming the party for nearly three decades, and his alleged sidelining of leaders such as P Jayarajan, who had a wide influence in Kannur district. But the most stark example is of K K Shailaja, Vijayan’s health minister in his first term who won praise for her ministry’s handling of the Covid pandemic and the Nipah crisis. When the LDF returned to power in 2021, the entire Cabinet was dropped, but it was Shailaja’s absence that was the most glaring. In the upcoming elections, too, while the party leadership decided that most MLAs would be fielded from their sitting seats, Shailaja was shifted from her Mattannur seat to Peravoor, seen as a tough fight for the Left. “Leaders like Shailaja teacher, C S Sujatha (former MP), J Mercykutty Amma or M Swaraj could have been used more in the government and in the party,” says a party leader. Vijayan’s critics say that in a party that distinguishes itself with its principled stand on most issues, his decision to promote his son-in-law P A Mohamed Riyas, who is now the Minister for Public Works & Tourism, may have been his worst call. With the current general secretary, M A Baby, known as a pacifist rather than a confrontationalist, Vijayan faces no opposition from within. That Pinarayi could have his way, irrespective of party ideology and the accompanying pulls and pressures, was evident early in his first term. In 2016, he appointed American-Indian economist Gita Gopinath as economic advisor, signalling that he did not bother about ideological slants. Sources say Vijayan continued taking advice from Gopinath even after she took on other assignments, including in the International Monetary Fund (IMF). “When it comes to getting things done, Pinarayi adopts Deng Xiaoping’s approach – it does not matter if a cat is black or white; as long as it catches mice, it’s a good cat,” says a party colleague. This approach was evident when he stood firm, even in the face of setbacks and vehement criticism from his party and government, to carry forward the Vizhinjam Port project, which was initially commissioned by the Oommen Chandy government. His critics also accuse Vijayan of compromising on the Left’s political ideals. Vijayan’s political career has been built on an uncompromising resistance to the Sangh Parivar, a stance that helped the CPI(M) draw minority communities closer. But as he marks 10 years as CM, that image is under strain. The Opposition has been accusing Vijayan of surrendering to the RSS and BJP, referring to a string of incidents to make their point – his U-turn on the Centre’s PM SHRI project for schools, which he had earlier dismissed as RSS-driven agenda; his failure to act against ADGP Ajith Kumar over the senior IPS officer’s alleged meetings with senior RSS leaders; and his kid-glove approach towards prominent Hindu leader Vellappally Natesan’s controversial and often communally charged remarks. While many talk about Vijayan and Prime Minister Narendra Modi in the same breath, especially over the alleged centralisation of power, CPI(M) leaders dismiss the comparison. They point out that Vijayan, unlike Modi, frequently addresses the media, gives interviews and never dodges any questions. His critics, however, refute that by referencing his famous outburst, “ kadakku purathu (get out)”, directed at reporters who tried to gatecrash a meeting between the CPI(M) and the BJP in Thiruvananthapuram in 2017. What his critics and supporters both agree on is that Vijayan is the man to turn to in a crisis. When Vijayan was invited to be the chief guest at the death anniversary function of Oommen Chandy, his predecessor and bitter political rival, Chandy’s family came under criticism from the Congress, but they stood their ground. His son Chandy Oommen later spoke about the support Vijayan had extended to the late leader during his last days. A businessman’s recollection of his visits to the CM Office, both Vijayan’s and that of Oomen Chandy, offers one of the best insights into the man. When he walked into Chandy’s office, the businessman says, he could barely spot the “people’s CM” from among the crowd of Congress hangers-on. “They were everywhere – standing, sitting, even on the handle of the CM’s chair. I had to look hard to spot the CM and finally I spotted him near the bathroom, on his phone.” In Pinarayi’s office, he says, it’s just the CM. “He gives you an appointment and expects you to be there at that precise time. And when you meet him, he listens to you. If he thinks there’s merit to what you are saying, he calls his secretary and asks for the work to be done. If he doesn’t agree, he will tell you bluntly,” says the businessman. The 14th child of Mundayil Koran, a toddy tapper, and Kalyani, a homemaker, Vijayan did his primary schooling at Amala Basic, a missionary school in Pinarayi. Those were the days when most children in Pinarayi dropped out of school after Class 5 and rolled beedis for a living. But after Vijayan completed his Class 5, school authorities prevailed on his parents to let him continue his education, “at least until he failed”. Vijayan not only finished school but enrolled at Brennen College, Thalassery. Retired school teacher K Nanu, a close friend of Vijayan from his childhood days, was among those from Pinarayi who made it to college. Recalling an incident from their days at Brennen College, Nanu says, “Students from Pinarayi village depended on a canoe service to go to college. The service was supposed to be free, but one day, the operator demanded payment and threatened to sink the boat if we didn’t pay up. All of us jumped off in fear, except for Vijayan. Later, with support from the beedi workers of Pinarayi, the free service was restored. Vijayan soon came to be recognised as a bold student leader in the Kerala Students Federation (the CPI’s student wing, which later became SFI).’’ After college, Vijayan got into politics while Nanu went on to become a school teacher. Talking of Vijayan’s wedding to Kamala, Nanu says, “In those days, it was difficult to find a bride for a politician. But Kamala’s father was an active Communist worker and was happy to get his daughter married to Vijayan.’’ Vijayan and Kamala, a former school teacher, are parents to Veena, an entrepreneur who is married to minister Riyas, and Vivek, a banking professional. Dr Sekhar Lukose Kuriakose, member-secretary of the Kerala Disaster Management Authority, says Vijayan’s leadership is “a textbook in crisis management”. “I witnessed his leadership under extreme pressure during Ochki, the floods of 2018 and 2019, landslides in Idukki and Wayanad. Such disasters demand a decision maker who possesses both a clinical understanding of systemic risks and a keen awareness of consequences,” says Dr Sekhar. Former Chief Secretary Dr V P Joy describes Vijayan as a “professional chief minister, who gets things done in a professional manner”. Joy, who served for two-and-a-half years in the Vijayan government, says, “Decisions are taken after deliberations. But once he makes a decision, there is no change. In meetings, he listens attentively to what officials have to say. He uses meetings primarily as an opportunity to listen to others. In the end, he presents his opinion or decision. In my experience, all meetings have been conducted at the scheduled time, and usually last about an hour at most.” Yet, his approach in Cabinet meetings is very different. According to a minister, in many of the Cabinet briefings, the Chief Minister comes and reads out the decisions, without leaving any room for discussion. “But certainly, the decisions are thought through and discussed among the officials at various levels,” the minister says. A person who has worked closely with him says Vijayan’s inscrutability is often deliberate. “He invokes fear rather than affection. But he likes it that way. He feels the detachment helps him get things done. He feels all the infrastructure development he managed during his term was possible because of this approach,” he says. This election season, it’s this image of Vijayan, as a “development man”, that screams out of every banner and hoarding. On a 500-metre stretch of the highway leading from the Nedumbassery airport, The Indian Express counted at least three huge flex banners of the Chief Minister. A Congress leader says, “We want those to stay. The more people see his face, the more they are reminded of his arrogance, and the better our chances.” This then, is Vijayan’s election – to win or to lose.
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