Abuse of anti-dowry law: Separating myths and facts
In the surround sound of misuse narratives, women who most desperately need the law’s protections are in the greatest danger of losing them
The use, abuse and misuse of section 498A — the provision in law enacted to protect women from domestic violence — has so exercised public imagination in recent times that it has assumed mythic proportions. Media has been wringing its hands. A movie that “will expose how false dowry harassment cases have become a devastating tool of legal abuse” is underway. And the country’s highest court has joined the lamentation.

But first, a brief history. Section 498A was introduced in 1983 when “bride burning” — the murder of young women in so-called kitchen accidents for not bringing adequate dowry — was at its peak. Mothers like Satya Rani Chadha whose daughter Shashi Bala was pregnant when she was killed, and other activists, led a protest that eventually resulted in protections in law against cruelty by a husband and his relatives.
“In those days, the dowry act was very weak,” says Manjiri Jaruhar, Bihar’s first woman IPS office, then posted in Bokaro. “We knew women were being killed for dowry but could never establish the link.”
Section 498A, a non-bailable, non-compoundable offence that allowed arrests without a warrant, was intended to “give teeth to cases where women had been killed for dowry,” says Jaruhar.
In the four decades since, we have failed to eradicate dowry. The National Crime Records Bureau finds 19 women killed every day for dowry in 2022. The National Family Health Survey-5 finds one in three women subjected to physical or sexual violence, with 45% of women and 44% of men saying a wife should be beaten for transgressions like leaving the house without permission.
And yet, the narrative of conniving wives packing off mothers-in-law to jail and blackmailing husbands or driving them to die by suicide has grown. Regrettably, some of this language is being driven by the courts. From Delhi to Allahabad, there are a slew of judgements that perpetuate the stereotype of the “disgruntled housewife”.
As recently as December 2024, the Supreme Court spoke of the “growing tendency” of women misusing section 498A for “personal vendetta” against husbands and their relatives. The bench did clarify that women who suffered cruelty should not have to remain silent, but the overarching picture emanating from the highest court is that of the vengeful wife.
In the absence of data on misuse, we should ask: What does misuse really mean? Say, a case is filed by a wife who is being tortured by her husband and his relatives for not bringing enough dowry; a settlement, counselled by mediators, police and lawyers, is reached. She withdraws the case. Does it mean it was cooked up?
Anyone working with domestic violence survivors will tell you that women hesitate to tell their parents, let alone go to the police. When they speak up, they are often counselled by their own parents to “adjust”. Few have the privilege or means to fight legal battles or support themselves and their children.
But to assume that all women are paragons of truth and virtue is also sexist. Do women file false cases? Probably, and it is nobody’s case that a section of law should be misused no matter how compelling the reason (leverage in divorce, to get custody of children, for a decent settlement).
A solution lies in ensuring fair settlements and no-fault divorces, says senior advocate Indira Jaising. India lacks a law relating to the division of matrimonial property and assets acquired after a marriage, she says. So, when a marriage breaks down women often find themselves “thrown out of the house with empty hands”, she says.
Laws designed to protect women whether from rape or domestic violence are built literally on the bodies of women. Nobody condones even a single false case. But in the surround sound of misuse narratives, women who most desperately need the law’s protections are in the greatest danger of losing them.
Namita Bhandare writes on gender. The views expressed are personal