A unique election campaign is unfolding in Puthuppally, arguably the most closely watched constituency in Kerala’s forthcoming Assembly elections. It is unique because it lacks the pomp and show usually associated with traditional poll campaigns.
Elections have always announced themselves in Puthuppally long before political parties finalised their candidates. Like elsewhere in the state, they arrived in waves of material. Massive plastic flex boards tied to trees, banners stretched across junctions, vinyl sheets nailed into public spaces, and loudspeakers mounted on vehicles cutting through villages from dawn to dusk. Campaigns did not merely communicate. They accumulated, layer upon layer, until the constituency itself became an archive of political assertion. When it ended, what remained was not just a result but a residue. Waste to be cleared, plastic to be managed, and a landscape marked by the physical imprint of democracy.
But this time, there are no flex boards crowding Puthuppally’s busy but narrow junctions announcing the presence of UDF candidate Chandy Oommen. There are no banners stretching across its roads, and no convoys amplifying his voice.
Instead, there is a 37-year-old lawyer, the son of former chief minister Oommen Chandy, moving through the constituency on a bicycle, stopping at homes, speaking without a microphone, and leaving nothing to be cleared. It is a campaign defined as much by what it refuses to do as by what it chooses to become.
Oommen’s “green campaign” is not an abstract environmental gesture. It is a direct intervention in Kerala’s political culture.
Elections in the state, despite repeated adherence to green protocol guidelines, continue to generate significant volumes of non-biodegradable waste, with enforcement uneven. Even as rules mandate eco-friendly materials, plastic flex continues to flood constituencies.
The contradiction is stark. Regulations exist, but compliance is sporadic. Sustainability is spoken about, but rarely practised. Across political fronts, campaigns still rely heavily on plastic, visual saturation, and high-decibel outreach, often treating environmental norms as procedural hurdles rather than political commitments.
It is against this backdrop of routine excess that Oommen’s campaign gains its significance. “What Chandy is doing in Puthuppally is a quiet revolution that deserves to be emulated across the country. At a time when candidates spend enormous sums filling constituencies with flex boards, it is rare in Kerala for a young candidate to decide that none of this is necessary to communicate his politics, and that environmental commitment must go beyond hollow statements to become a way of life. He is also sending out the message that ecological alternatives must emerge from the grassroots,” writer and political observer Sudha Menon told Down To Earth.
Her observation points to a shift from symbolism to practice. What distinguishes this campaign is not that it speaks about sustainability, but that it attempts to embody it. The absence of flex boards is not replaced by digital spectacle or another form of excess. Instead, the campaign reorients itself around proximity. Door-to-door visits, small conversations, and a pace that allows interruption. Even Rahul Gandhi, who arrived to campaign for Oommen, took note of the approach and joined him on a bicycle through the constituency.
The bicycle becomes central to this reimagining. It is not merely an environmentally friendly choice. It alters the rhythm of politics. Without the insulation of a vehicle convoy, the candidate remains accessible, exposed to the everyday life of the constituency. Conversations happen not as staged events but as encounters. Brief, unscripted, and grounded in local concerns. In a political culture increasingly defined by scale and speed, this slowing down becomes both method and message.
Menon reads this as part of a broader transition. “What he is demonstrating is a compelling model for change, especially in how we think about transport and everyday mobility. It speaks to multiple crises at once: climate change, traffic congestion, public health, and even the erosion of local social connections. By choosing a different path, he is showing that political practice itself can become a site of meaningful change,” she says.
The environmental dimension is reinforced by another significant decision, the refusal to use plastic banners and hoardings. For Thiruvananthapuram-based environmental activist S Usha, this marks a break from the habitual disconnect between political messaging and political practice. “Oommen’s decision to avoid plastic banners and posters adds weight to this approach. It is not just symbolic but a conscious refusal to contribute to the environmental damage politics often ignores. Together, these choices send a firm message, especially to young people, that responsible and sustainable alternatives are both possible and necessary,” she says.
Offering a sharper political reading, J S Adoor, president of the Institute for Sustainable Development and Governance, places Oommen within a broader trajectory. “Chandy Oommen is a genuine political leader. He has been active in social work and the political process for more than 20 years. Unlike many politicians, he has wider exposure in Delhi and beyond. He was the only participant from Kerala in the Bharat Jodo Yatra who walked barefoot up to Kashmir. He has a clear understanding of green politics and is probably the only candidate in India to run a campaign without posters, flex, and motorised outreach, choosing a bicycle instead. He has created his own political space, emerging from the shadow of his father,” he says.
That legacy remains central. Oommen Chandy, who served twice as Kerala’s chief minister, represented Puthuppally for 53 years until he died in 2023. Known for his accessibility and direct engagement, his politics shaped the constituency in deeply personal ways. The bypoll that brought Chandy Oommen into electoral politics, with a record margin of over 37,000 votes, was as much about continuity as it was about expectation. The current campaign is not merely about retaining a seat. It is about redefining that legacy for a political moment shaped as much by ecological anxiety as by electoral competition.
Yet, this experiment unfolds within a competitive field that continues to follow conventional rules. The CPI (M) has fielded senior leader K M Radhakrishnan, while the BJP’s candidate is Raveendranath Vakathanam. Both campaigns rely on established party structures, conventional publicity, and the familiar grammar of Kerala elections, where visibility is strength and presence is assertion. In that context, Oommen’s approach is not just environmentally distinct; it is politically counterintuitive. It was wagered that voters would respond not to spectacle but to restraint.
For environmental groups, the significance lies precisely in this departure. “What stands out is the clear break from the resource-intensive, wasteful, and noisy election culture that has become routine in Kerala. Campaigns have turned into loud, visually cluttered spectacles with little thought to environmental cost. In that context, this zero-waste, climate-conscious approach is more than symbolism. It reflects awareness of both the larger climate crisis and the mounting local waste problem,” says Sridhar Radhakrishnan, leading environmentalist who headed a committee of environmental organisations which drafted a green manifesto for this election.
He points to the deeper implications of what may appear to be modest choices. “Avoiding flex boards and plastic clutter may seem small, but in a state as ecologically fragile as Kerala, it carries political and policy significance. It shows that environmental responsibility can begin with everyday political practice. It also shifts campaigning back to people, reducing spectacle and encouraging more direct engagement,” he says.
The larger question, however, remains unresolved. “The real issue is whether this remains a campaign style or evolves into something deeper. If it begins to influence how elections are conducted more broadly, and more importantly, if it carries into governance, it could mark a meaningful shift. That would move politics in a more responsible direction, both socially and environmentally,” he adds.