Dowry bill and the politics of 'unworkable' laws

Dowry isn’t tradition when it coerces; it’s violence dressed up as culture

Should laws against child marriage, domestic violence or harassment be cancelled simply because enforcement is difficult? What is stopping us from strengthening them through planned and coordinated actions such as mass education, media sensitisation, rule of law reforms and access to justice? Is weak enforcement a failure of governance or a reason to retreat from justice? Is weak enforcement a reason to abandon justice? Does any pro-women, pro-marginalised community or pro-human rights law need to police affection, or does it need to address coercion?

An array of such questions occupied my mind when I came across the news of the recent rejection by a standing committee of the National Assembly of a bill presented by PPP's MNA Dr Sharmila Farooqui, seeking to ban dowry. This is more than a procedural setback. It signals a multi-layered uneasiness with challenging communal customs, social traditions and cultural rituals that are patriarchal, destructive, unhealthy and economically convenient for many. Declaring the bill "unworkable" may have ended its journey, for now, in a parliamentary committee, but it has also exposed a critical fault line: our reluctance to legislate against everyday forms of gendered coercion disguised as important values. 

Dowry is often defended as a voluntary exchange of gifts. This contention crumbles the moment expectation, negotiation, or pressure enters the picture. When a "gift" becomes a demand, it becomes gender-based violence in general and violence against women in particular. It turns marriage into a transaction and women into liabilities to be compensated for. Dowry, as an institution, reduces the status of a woman right from the time a girl is born or even when the sex of an unborn child is detected as female through ultrasound. The rejected bill endeavoured to name this reality, and that naming itself was unsettling.

The repercussions of the rejection extend far beyond dowry. It reinforces a typical pattern in which laws addressing structural inequality are held to impossibly high standards, while laws preserving the status quo pass with little scrutiny.

Disappointment, however, must not be mistaken for defeat. No legislation is perfect at inception. Concerns regarding definitions, safeguards against misuse and implementation mechanisms are legitimate areas for improvement. Parliamentary committees exist to refine legislation through evidence and consultation, not to silence debate by declaring reform inconvenient or impractical.

This moment calls for political maturity and collective responsibility. Women parliamentarians across party lines, particularly through the Women Parliamentary Caucus, need to come together for sustained legislative advocacy. Dowry is not a partisan issue. It is about the individual's dignity, consent, mental health and economic justice. It is also about the collective empathy and value system of a society, the accountability of institutions and the responsibility of a state. A revised bill, re-submitted with cross-party ownership, would affirm that resistance will not derail reform.

The potential gains of such legislation are significant. Challenging dowry weakens the dangerous myth that daughters are "compensated" at marriage, thereby strengthening the spirit and enforcement of inheritance laws. It complements efforts to curb child marriage, which is often driven by dowry calculations and economic desperation. It also establishes a normative benchmark that can motivate provincial assemblies to legislate in alignment, rather than leaving reform fragmented and uneven.

There is also an uncomfortable truth that deserves attention. Too many parliamentarians vote on or reject bills they have not fully read or understood. This erodes public trust and reduces law-making to symbolism rather than substance. A culture of informed legislative engagement is urgently needed. If donors can invest in capacity-building for journalists, judges and civil servants, they can also consider structured legislative literacy programmes for elected representatives. Law-making is not instinctive; it is a skill that requires time, training and seriousness.

For over three decades, I have worked with marginalised communities on gender justice in all regions of Pakistan. I am also a survivor of gender-based violence, including dowry-related abuse. I have served as a senior technical advisor to the Women's Parliamentary Caucus on behalf of UN Women. These experiences shape my perspectives, but the views expressed here are my own, informed by lived reality, policy engagement and long-term advocacy.

I have seen how deeply normalised harmful practices become when they are left unchallenged. I have also seen how fiercely they resist scrutiny when finally questioned. The rejection of the dowry bill is part of that resistance. But conversations have shifted. The question is no longer whether dowry causes damage. It is whether the state has the courage to confront it through law, policy and political will.

Disappointment is not defeat. Bills can be revised. Coalitions can be built. Norms can be changed. What cannot continue is legislative indifference to a practice that extracts its highest cost from women, families and the moral economy of society.

This debate is not over. Nor should it be.