Opinion Brij Bhushan Sharan Singh’s acquittal: A story of impunity
How many times must survivors tell their stories before institutions respond with sensitivity and urgency?
The episode also reveals why so many women hesitate to come forward in the first place. After Brij Bhushan Sharan Singh’s acquittal by a Delhi court in the sexual harassment case filed by six women wrestlers, Vinesh Phogat, one of the complainants, said in a social media post: “We have not given up hope and the wrestlers will continue their fight.” The hope for justice has, from the beginning, been the load-bearing feature of the struggle to pursue the case against the former Wrestling Federation of India chief — he was also the BJP MP from Kaiserganj when the accusations surfaced. Hope for justice fueled their vigil at Jantar Mantar when they began their agitation in 2023; it helped them weather institutional indifference until Singh was forced to resign from his position and a case against him was finally registered by Delhi Police in April that year. And hope is what will see them through the days to come as they appeal Monday’s verdict. Yet the story of this case is no longer only about one individual or one verdict. It is about the extraordinary resilience required of those seeking accountability when the accused occupies a position of power, and about the special endurance demanded by a justice system that often seems to test the survivors as much as the allegations they bring before it.
The wrestlers’ fight tells a larger story of entrenched impunity. The defining images of the protest bear witness to it: Wrestlers sleeping on the footpath as they protested against lack of progress in the case; their march towards Parliament that ended with them being dragged away by the police; and the haunting sight of decorated athletes standing on the banks of the Ganga in Haridwar, saying they would immerse their medals in the river. Most sexual harassment cases have arduous trajectories. The twists and turns of the case against Singh — including a report by a government-appointed oversight committee that was never made public and the withdrawal of a complaint under the POCSO Act — have underlined how much more difficult it is to pursue such complaints when there is an overwhelming imbalance of power.
The episode also reveals why so many women hesitate to come forward in the first place. It is not simply the fear of being disbelieved; it is the knowledge that the process itself can become a punishment, with years of recounting traumatic experiences before multiple authorities, public scrutiny, political hostility and institutional delay, only to find that justice remains elusive. Irrespective of this case’s legal outcome, the larger question raised by the wrestlers’ struggle remains unresolved: How many times must survivors tell their stories before institutions respond with sensitivity and urgency?