

Legally empowered, yet socially disempowered — this phrase captures the gap between constitutional promise and lived reality for many women elected as village panchayat presidents in TN. Elected women representatives in panchayats face resistance in participating in decision-making or managing panchayat affairs, with their roles constrained by caste and gender norms.
But what happens when a handful of women break the mould? When they reject proxy-driven leadership and step into the arena as decision-makers in their own right?
This powerful shift was at the heart of a documentary screened at the Madras School of Social Work (MSSW), on Monday, directed by Manthra Shree, a full-time PhD scholar at MSSW.
The film titled ‘Avalidam Arasiyal’, a part of Manthra’s research, captured stories of women who claimed their place at the forefront of governance — only to find that when they did, they were all alone.
“‘This is Uthukadu village, my village, my people. I know them and getting along will be easy,’ I thought. But, when I found myself in a position of authority, I realised that in reality, I was on my own,” Savithri Manikandan, an elected Panchayat president from Kancheepuram district, was documented saying. Thamizhselvi Ramesh, panchayat president of Pulliliyon village also echoed similar sentiments. She revealed she was expecting the panchayat secretary to guide her, but she was forced to learn by herself as she was denied any help.
When asked about their biggest achievement in this tenure, each had a different story to share, but the impact of their actions were equally significant. Rekha, Pandeswaram panchayat president, for instance, addressed two issues at once by empowering a woman with disabilities who was also a survivor of domestic abuse. Rekha rehabilitated the survivor and her two young children by helping her set up a shop near the village school. This not only gave the survivor a livelihood but also kept children from walking over a kilometre to a shop that sold snacks and a tobacco containing cholocate called “Cool Lips”, which previous “raids had failed to stop from reaching children.”
Asha Kalaivaanan, the first panchayat president from the SC community in Azhinjivakkam village, ensured piped water connection to every home. While, Thamizhselvi confessed to stopping child marriages in her village. “Here, they were marrying off 15-year-old girls to 33-year-old men. After assuming office, I stopped two such weddings and then there haven’t been any child marriages.” She also turned the idea of a “Samathuva Sudukadu” into a reality, ensuring dignity in death by creating a crematorium space open to all, ending the earlier practice of denying access to those from the SC and ST communities.
Despite such decisive actions by these women leaders, is the state upholding its constitutional mandate? Apparently not. Tamil Nadu has a history of delays in conducting panchayat elections — the last major rural local body polls for 28 districts were held in December 2019, with the remaining nine districts voting in October 2021 after a court directive. Now, even though the five-year term of those elected ended in January 2025, including the tenures of Thamizhselvi, Rekha, and Asha, from Thiruvallur district, the government is yet to announce the next election schedule, citing ongoing delimitation and reservation processes.
Downsides from findings
Manthra’s documentary only showed four stories among hundreds of women. “These four women agreed to talk on camera,” she said. The paths were far from rosy for many other women panchayat heads, who continue to struggle to navigate the system, Manthra revealed.
Among the 185 female panchayat presidents she met, one story left her truly shocked. “We hear a lot about proxy-driven leadership, especially in seats reserved for women where brothers, husbands, or fathers-in-law would hold the doors to power while simply having their sisters, wives, or daughters-in-law act as presidents. I met many women who are struggling in such dynamics. One of the elected panchayat presidents was working as a maid in the vice president(VP)’s house,” Manthra revealed. “The VP, in a certain tone, excreted his superiority by saying that he was the one who made her contest… clearly the decision making authority was the VP,” Manthra added.
Another observation she made was the role of panchayat clerks in enabling and supporting proxy-driven leadership. “I would be waiting to meet the elected female representatives and the panchayat clerks would announce, “Thalaivar is coming.” I would expect that the president is coming but it would be the president’s husband, father, brother, or some other man,” she noted.
When women who initially agreed to proxy-driven leadership, later try to break free and claim their authority, the shift often alters dynamics at home. Many experience significant mental strain — an aspect that, Manthra believes, deserves far more attention.
Lack of upward mobility
With the state not holding panchayat elections regularly, one level of power is already being denied. Many women do not return to power for a second term, often due to the combined pressures of gender and caste dynamics within political structures. “Those who do manage to come back are typically from seats reserved for women and even then, only if they enjoy a certain degree of political backing,” Manthra observed.
Even when women win, the question remains: Does this leadership translate into upward mobility? Despite over 50% representation in village panchayats and 50% in municipal corporations, TN currently has only 12 women MLAs out of 234 seats, three women Lok Sabha MPs out of 39, and one woman Rajya Sabha MP out of 18.
One might argue that women could have lost assembly and LS polls, but the fielding of women by the two main parties of the state — the DMK and AIADMK — tell a different story. In the 2021 Assembly polls, the DMK fielded just 12 women candidates against 161 men, while the AIADMK fielded 15 women against 219 men. In the 2024 LS elections, the DMK fielded three women candidates against 36 men, while the AIADMK fielded just one woman against 38 men.
These figures point to a systemic bottleneck in party nominations that limits women’s pathways to higher office, regardless of their grassroots experience. But on the field still, are women like Savithri, who are continuing to fight for their place.