Thirty-six-year-old Dnyaneshwari Anjan, a practising advocate at the Ambajogai Sessions Court, had reportedly approached the police with a complaint about loudspeakers blaring from a nearby temple, as well as the constant disturbance from three flour mills installed near her home. Villagers, including the sarpanch (village head) however claim that she was a persistent (and often exaggerated complaint), sometimes even filing false complaints! Her claim that the persistent noise triggered migraines and caused her physical distress brought her violent retribution. Instead of any attempts at dialogue with her, detractors resorted to what, increasingly is seen, vigilante violence.

On the morning of April 19, 2025, Anjan was attacked by her village sarpanch and at least nine of his supporters. According to her account, they dragged her to a farm and formed a circle around her, beating her with wooden sticks and plastic pipes—including on her head—until she nearly lost consciousness. The photos of her severely bruised and battered back, which she later shared publicly, went viral on social media, igniting an outcry among civil society, and opposition leaders.

An attack orchestrated by power and patriarchy

This was not a spontaneous act of rage—it was a deliberate, orchestrated punishment for speaking up. Anjan revealed that prior to the attack, the sarpanch had visited her house and told her parents to “reprimand” her, as though her assertion of rights was a form of insubordination. An FIR was registered a full day after the assault, under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), including sections for rioting (Section 191(2)), assault to outrage modesty (Section 74), unlawful assembly (Section 189), criminal intimidation (Section 351(2)), and voluntarily causing grievous hurt by dangerous means (Section 118(2)). And yet, as of the last update, none of the accused had been arrested. The police at Yusuf Wadgaon station claimed that search teams had been formed, but the perpetrators remain at large—shielded, perhaps, by political proximity or the comfort of knowing that consequences are rarely swift for those who harm women.

Political firestorm, but no real action

Opposition leaders were quick to condemn the incident. Maharashtra Congress chief Harshvardhan Sapkal declared it a “proof” of the BJP-led government’s failure to ensure women’s safety, stating, “If a woman lawyer is not safe, what about ordinary citizens?” He added that the lawyer was taken to a farm and mercilessly beaten till she fell unconscious, demanding the arrest of the accused and accountability from Devendra Fadnavis, who also holds the home portfolio.

Amol Kolhe, NCP (Sharad Pawar faction) MP, called the incident a “blot on a progressive state like Maharashtra”, invoking the legacy of icons like Jijabai, Ahilyabai Holkar, and Savitribai Phule, and pointing to the collapsed law and order under the BJP-Shiv Sena-NCP alliance. As per Hindustan Times, he added, “Instead of working for the people, alliance leaders are busy fighting among themselves for power.”

Even as the outrage spread online, with photos of Anjan’s injuries making the rounds, the BJP led Maharashtra state government’s silence has been deafening. As public confidence in the state’s protection mechanisms erodes, what is left is the image of a woman lawyer—bruised, nearly broken—punished for doing what the law allows: filing a complaint.

A female advocate was brutally beaten by Sarpanch and his accomplice at Beed District of Maharashtra. Beed again news for wrong reasons#Beed #beednews #Maharashtra pic.twitter.com/QftUfGeCbR

— Tikam Shekhawat (@TikamShekhawat) April 18, 2025

From Beed to Delhi: A wider crisis of safety for women in law

What makes the Beed incident even more disturbing is that it is not isolated. Just days earlier, in Delhi, a woman Judicial Magistrate was subjected to a shocking episode of intimidation and abuse—this time within the confines of her own courtroom.

After convicting an accused in a cheque bounce case under Section 138 of the Negotiable Instruments Act, Judicial Magistrate Shivangi Mangla recorded in her official court order that the accused and his lawyer hurled abuses, made death threats, and attempted to hurl an object at her. The convict told her, in open court, “Tu hai kya cheez… tu bahar mil, dekhte hain kaise zinda ghar jaati hai”—a direct threat to her life.

The lawyer, Atul Kumar, joined his client in pressuring the magistrate to resign and reverse her judgment. Judge Mangla noted that the harassment continued beyond the courtroom, including psychological pressure to quit her post. In her courageous response, she announced her intent to approach the National Commission for Women, and also issued a show cause notice to the lawyer, asking why criminal contempt proceedings should not be initiated against him.

Here was a woman judge, upholding the law of the land, being told she might not “make it home alive” for doing her job.

A systemic pattern of violence and intimidation

What connects Dnyaneshwari Anjan in Beed and Shivangi Mangla in Delhi is not just their profession—it’s the price they paid for exercising their legal rights and authority. In one case, a complaint. In another, a conviction. In both cases, the state’s promise of safety and institutional protection crumbled in the face of patriarchal rage and unchecked power.

It is not enough to call these “rare” or “shocking.” They are part of a wider pattern of systemic violence against women—especially those who step outside domestic spaces and challenge the authority of men in politics, religion, and even the courtroom.

What is at stake is the integrity of the legal system itself, the right to justice, and the belief that the rule of law can protect us.

Conclusion: When the protectors are left unprotected

The brutal assault on Dnyaneshwari Anjan and the threats against Judge Shivangi Mangla should not be seen as two separate news items—they are symptoms of the same disease. A society where women in legal professions are met with violence, abuse, and threats, simply for doing what the law entitles them to do, is a society teetering on the edge of lawlessness.

Where is the urgency in the state’s response? Where is the accountability from those in power? Notably, both the states where these incidents took place are being governed by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) government. When perpetrators feel empowered enough to attack lawyers and threaten magistrates, they are signalling something far more dangerous—that they believe the law is on their side, or at least will look the other way.

Related:

When Courts Fail Survivors: How patriarchy shapes justice in sexual offence against women cases

From Protectors to Perpetrators? Police assaulted women, Children, Christian priests in Odisha: Fact-finding report

Surviving Communal Wrath: Women who have defied the silence, demanded accountability from the state

The post Beed to Delhi: Lawyer beaten in Maharashtra, judge threatened in Delhi—what the path for justice means for women practioners in today’s India appeared first on SabrangIndia.

 
Women comprise 48.5% of the general population, and the domination of men in the lower judiciary, the frontline of the judicial system, might reduce courts’ legitimacy as representative of the societies they serve.
 
The inclusion of women in the judiciary enables courts to understand the real-world implications of their rulings, and reduces barriers to women’s access to justice, such as stigma associated with reporting violence and abuse, the report said. It could also signal “equality of opportunity for women in the legal profession and an appointments process that is merit-based, fair, and non-discriminatory”.
 
The Vidhi analysis used names of judges as reported on court websites between March and July 2017.
 

Source: Tilting the scale, gender imbalance in the lower judiciary, Vidhi center for legal policy
 
Andaman and Nicobar Islands and Dadra and Nagar Haveli had no female judges. Bihar, with 11.5% of all its lower courts judges female, had the lowest proportion of women judges in the lower judiciary of all states analysed, followed by Jharkhand (13.9%), Gujarat (15.1%) and Jammu and Kashmir (18.6%).
 
The highest proportion of women judges in the lower judiciary was in Meghalaya (73.8%), followed by Goa (65.9%) and Sikkim (64.7%).

Source: Tilting the scale, gender imbalance in the lower judiciary, Vidhi center for legal policy
 
The proportion of female judges is lower at the level of the district judge than at lower levels, the analysis showed. For instance, in Madhya Pradesh, 42.1% of civil judges (junior division) were female compared to 13.6% of district judges.
 
Lack of data on gender diversity in Indian judiciary
 
If there were fewer female civil judges (junior division) in 1995 than now, fewer women judges would currently occupy higher posts in the lower judiciary, since higher posts are mostly filled through promotion from civil judges (junior division), the report explained.
 

Source: Tilting the scale, gender imbalance in the lower judiciary, Vidhi center for legal policy
 
“Differences in the gender balance between these tiers may also hint at potential bias in
 
promotional processes,” the report said. “Given that men and women are equally meritorious, in the absence of discrimination, one would assume that the proportion of women judges will remain the same from the lowest to the higher tiers, for any given batch of judicial officers.”
 
However, without information on the number of women graduating from law school, applying for judicial positions, and promotions over the years, it is difficult to understand the reasons behind the gender imbalance in the lower judiciary or the changes in the gender composition over time.
 
For the report, data on judges in the lower judiciary was collected from websites of different courts across states, and the gender of the judges determined on the basis of their prefix, and by using Gender-API.com, a database of names from across the world.
 
“There are no systematic efforts to regularly compile and publish even basic data on the  proportion of women judges in different levels of Indian courts,” the report said. It is especially challenging to understand the composition of the lower judiciary given the large numbers of districts and judges and unavailability of nationwide statistics, the report explained.
 
“The judiciary is notorious for the lack of data… we had to call several times to even find out information about reservation policies for women in the judiciary in different states,” said Nitika Khaitan, research fellow at the judicial reform initiative at the Vidhi Center for Legal Policy.
 
Women underrepresented in the higher judiciary
 
The Supreme Court and High Courts are the ‘higher judiciary’, while District Courts  and below are the ‘lower’ or ‘subordinate’ judiciary.
 
Women are underrepresented even as higher levels in the judiciary. Since the Indian Supreme Court was established in 1950, it has had only six women judges, and currently has one woman judge out of 25. Across India’s 24 High Courts, a little more than 10% judges are women, with not even a single woman judge in eight High Courts, the report found.
 
(Khaitan is a writer/editor with IndiaSpend.)

Courtesy: India Spend
 

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