Restoring Justice: Can Local Arbitrators Help Settle Disputes Where Courts Can't?
Not kangaroo courts or meddlers - these local arbitrators attempt to peacefully reconcile domestic disputes, petty rivalries while encouraging people to follow legal routes, reports Ritwika Mitra.
Abandoned by her father even before she was born, Sandhya Sardar is still waiting for justice at her home in Kankandighi village in West Bengal’s Mathurapur - II block, about three hours by road from Kolkata. Tentatively around 45 years old now, Sandhya never managed to go to school or find formal work.
She sustains herself and her mother who has suffered a cognitive impairment after a stroke seven years ago by selling off portions of their government rations, plucking saag from around her house, and catching puti mach — small freshwater fish abundantly found in the Sundarbans, the riverine region where she lives.
Since 2000, Sandhya and her mother have been fighting a court case against the man who abandoned them to remarry. In those initial days, the Sramajibi Mahila Samiti led by the West Bengal-based apolitical trade union of Paschimbanga Khet Majoor Samiti (PBKMS) tried to bring the two parties– Sandhya’s mother and father– together to work out a middle ground where the man would pay them a one-time maintenance for sustenance.
The court, in 2010, ordered the man to pay a maintenance of Rs 1600 per month for Sandhya and her mother. Inclusive of arrears, the amount came to some Rs 20,000 per year, which the duo had received just once. No other financial relief, no further payment ever.
Every time the women complain to the court, arrest warrants are issued against the man. He prefers to serve jail time instead of paying up although he has the means to take care of Sandhya and her mother.
“We would often wake up to a severed cow head, and human excreta around the house. When my mother pursued the case with the help of the samiti, he beat her up badly and threw her in the pond,” Sandhya’s eyes well up as she says. She leans on her mother at their mud house which has no electricity, as the elderly woman twirls a stick, pauses from time to time to ask questions about the past or to affectionately pat Sandhya’s head.
A few weeks ago, when Sandhya had to attend the court hearing in the Diamond Harbour session court, almost two hours from their village, she had to borrow Rs 120 from a neighbour.
What is salishi?
Arbitration or salishi as it is locally called is often used to work out negotiations between two parties in rural Bengal. The mahila samiti has 550 confirmed members who conduct salishis in 12 of the state’s 23 districts.
Typically seen as part of the local governance system, it is prevalent across India, where political parties, community elders, apolitical trade unions, and NGOs resort to this form of mediation as an alternative, and often as a complementary form of the judicial system.
Legal processes in India are often lengthy, and people frequently seek quicker resolutions. According to government data available till March this year, over 4.6 crore cases are pending in lower courts, over 62 lakh across High Courts and over 80,000 cases at the Supreme Court in India.
How effective is this mediation?
For all these years, the mahila samiti fought the legal battle on behalf of Sandhya and her mother, giving them the confidence to not give up on the decades-long battle. The samiti intervened every time the man harassed and threatened the duo, continuously following up with the police on the case. Yet the samiti failed to mediate in this case as the man refused to take any responsibility of Sandhya and her mother.
The mahila samiti might have failed to settle Sandhya’s case but that doesn’t stop people from thronging the PBKMS office in Raidighi, a prominent village near Kankandighi, where Geeta Mudi (60) has been conducting mediations for decades.
Geeta says that salishi has helped foster an ecosystem to support women who are facing everyday challenges in living a dignified life. Salishi works not only for marital disputes and domestic violence cases but also for property disputes and community issues such as that of the illegal sale of alcohol in the area. “Women are always living in fear. Domestic fights start after husbands come back home drunk. The girls in the village are scared to go to tuitions in the evening,” says Geeta.
Women from the samiti attempt to shut down the illegal liquor shops that have mushroomed in the region by staging protests, disrupting sales at the shops, and regularly visiting the district administration with requests to take action against those selling liquor. They also try to create awareness among the police, district officials and young men in the village on the consequences of alcohol abuse and its linkage with domestic violence. “We are trying hard to fight the open sale of alcohol in the villages,” Geeta adds.
Sunil Bhandari (name changed), 35, has been living apart from his wife for three years now after he beat her up badly once. He suspected her of having an extramarital affair. “I would be away working in Kolkata for four days a week. When I would return home, people would fill me up with rumours about my wife’s possible affair. On one occasion, there was a young man who had come to meet her, and I beat them up both. She fell and injured her waist. The next day I took her to the doctor, and since then she chose to stay with her parents’” says Sunil.
Between April 2024 and March 2025, the PBKMS’s Sramajibi Mahila Samiti received 240 cases of which 178 cases were resolved, and in six cases, the two parties resolved issues between themselves - a dirty, greenish register kept the records. The association charges Rs 100 for the application fee for registering a complaint.
At least 70 percent of the cases with the mahila samiti pertain to domestic violence within marriages. The National Family Health Survey - 5 suggests that 32 percent of married women have faced domestic violence at some point in their marital lives. Besides being beaten up, emotional and sexual violence are other common forms of violence. And yet only 14 percent of women have sought support and fought against it.
What does justice for women mean?
Feminist historian Uma Chakravarti points out it is important to understand the complex realities of gendered experiences under which women seek alternative forms of justice. “When we talk about mahila samitis granting restorative justice or finding a middle ground for domestic violence cases, the context in which women seek justice needs to be understood,” she says.
Women are engaged in reproductive labour in their married households. When they face abuse, returning to their paternal homes isn’t usually viable. Instead, what they seek is safety within their married households, which is why they approach the samitis,” adds the historian.
Neutral does not mean we side with the wrong
Now looking for reconciliation, Sunil has been visiting his in-laws’ place repeatedly. But Namita Halder, a PBKMS activist who has been mediating in domestic violence cases for over two decades now, informs Sunil that she visited his in-laws’ house independently during fact-finding, and the wife is not yet willing to return. Namita explains to Sunil the repercussions of his abusive act and how his being an alcoholic has also affected his wife’s trust towards him.
“Men visiting the mahila samiti and looking for reconciliation is a welcome change. We try to stay neutral in such cases but it does not mean we support the wrongdoing. We are with the one who is suffering, and strive to find the right balance,” says Namita.
For Jayanta Kumar Pandit, 46, a veterinarian, the purpose of the visit to the samiti office was to find a way to handle his alimony case. He says he is not in a position to pay more maintenance to his wife, as directed by the court. The samiti advises him to pay up the pending amount while the case goes on.
Vigilance and accessibility are key
While the mahila samiti feels salishi helps them bring down the severity of the domestic violence, the samiti doesn’t abandon the cases once they reach reconciliation and women agree to return to their husbands’ households. Instead, the samiti forms committees in the villages from where the cases were reported and keep vigil on the women’s well-being.
Kaninika Bose Ghosh, the state secretary of the All India Democratic Women’s Association (AIDWA) – the women’s wing of the CPIM(M) says “Women come to us for resolutions. Our lawyers have successfully negotiated and brought peace in many cases of marital dispute.”
Which way does the balance tilt?
While salishi serves its purpose as a community-based support system, it comes with its set of limitations, which the activists and unions recognise. Media reports show how community-based negotiations often held by village elders in kangaroo style courts are detrimental for women’s rights.
In salishi, mediators do not take any moral high ground. Neither do they hand out punishments. They try to find a middle ground and ensure some stability for the women seeking solutions.
The advice or salishi is not bound by any law, so if the involved parties are not willing to conform or if there’s no consensus, the intervention fails. Sometimes, there are only temporary solutions. The success of any reconciliation depends on how much the parties co-operate once they return to living their lives.
The mahila samiti never take criminal cases or those pertaining to rape and murders. Namita points out: “Our stand is clear. There will be no arbitration in cases of rape and murder. We will only stand with the victims and survivors in these cases to file police complaints, and follow the course of law.”
