Twenty-Three Judges, Three Women: Deepika Pushkar Nath Puts Kashmir's Judiciary on Trial

JAMMU, 31 OCTOBER 2026. A short statement from advocate and human rights campaigner Deepika Pushkar Nath has reopened a question that India's judicial establishment has spent decades acknowledging without adequately resolving. How can an institution entrusted with protecting equality remain so overwhelmingly dominated by men?

In a post on X, Nath questioned the representation of women in the High Court of Jammu and Kashmir and Ladakh, citing 23 judges and only three women. She asked whether such a composition could reasonably be described as gender equality. Her argument was direct. The judiciary must demonstrate within its own institution the constitutional principles it is expected to uphold.

The timing is significant. On 29 October, the Supreme Court Collegium recommended nine advocates for elevation to the High Court, including just one woman, Tabasum Zafar. Official vacancy figures earlier in October recorded 14 serving judges against 25 sanctioned positions. Nath's figure of 23 therefore appears to refer to the prospective strength following the nine recommendations, rather than 23 judges already serving. The distinction matters, but it does little to diminish her underlying criticism.

The Woman Behind the Question

Deepika Pushkar Nath

Advocate | Human Rights Activist | Child Rights Campaigner

Jammu-based lawyer, former journalist, founder of the human rights organisation Voice for Rights, and former member of the Juvenile Justice Board in Jammu. Known nationally for her early representation of the Kathua victim's family.

Photograph: Pulakit Singh / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0.

Deepika Pushkar Nath, previously widely known as Deepika Singh Rajawat, is no stranger to public confrontation. A Jammu-based lawyer, former journalist and campaigner for civil rights, she acquired national prominence through her involvement in the 2018 Kathua rape and murder case.

Her public life, however, did not begin with Kathua. Nath has described her earlier work in journalism, including with Kashmir Times, before entering legal practice in 2008. In a published personal account, she recalled helping secure the release of a Pakistani woman who had spent decades in custody in Jammu. That experience, she explained, convinced her of the practical power of law.

She subsequently worked on juvenile justice and child protection. She has said that she received the Charkha and Rippan Kapur fellowships in 2008, filed public-interest litigation concerning implementation of juvenile justice legislation in 2010, and established Voice for Rights in 2013.

That same year, she questioned the circumstances surrounding the death of a child employed as domestic help in a judicial officer's household. Nath subsequently stated that her intervention led to her expulsion from the primary membership of the Jammu High Court Bar Association.

She also pursued legal action concerning a judicial officer accused of rape and campaigned for landmine survivors living along the Line of Control in Poonch. According to her own account, she helped organise a demonstration involving amputees and filed public-interest litigation seeking relief and rehabilitation.

Kathua and the Price of Taking a Stand

The defining moment came in January 2018, when eight-year-old Asifa Bano, a child from the nomadic Bakarwal Muslim community, was abducted, sexually assaulted and murdered in Kathua district. The crime horrified India. The public response also exposed bitter communal divisions, particularly when political figures participated in demonstrations associated with demands raised by supporters of the accused.

Nath initially represented the child's family and sought judicial intervention, including a court-monitored investigation. She also participated in efforts to move the trial outside Jammu and Kashmir. The Supreme Court transferred proceedings to Pathankot in Punjab.

The subsequent trial resulted in six convictions among seven accused tried at that stage, with sentences ranging from three years to life imprisonment. The case became a national test of whether legal institutions could withstand pressure arising from political and communal mobilisation.

Nath's involvement brought international recognition, but her relationship with the victim's family later deteriorated. In November 2018, the family sought to remove her as counsel, alleging inadequate attendance at proceedings. Nath rejected the criticism and defended her contribution. Both parts of that history deserve acknowledgement.

Her campaign against violence towards women also reached an international audience. In September 2018, she addressed concerns about violence against women at the United Nations Human Rights Council in Geneva.

When Principle Collided With Politics

In January 2023, Nath resigned from the Congress after former Jammu and Kashmir minister Choudhary Lal Singh was permitted to participate in the Bharat Jodo Yatra. She objected to his earlier association with demonstrations surrounding the Kathua case and considered his participation inconsistent with the movement's professed principles.

Her resignation demonstrated a willingness to challenge political allies when she believed their actions contradicted her position on justice. She later returned to the Congress, but the episode remains an important part of her public record.

In March 2026, Nath also publicly alleged that her personal security had been downgraded despite threats she associated with her work on the Kathua case. She expressed concern for her daughter and questioned the authorities' response. Those allegations remain her account and should not be confused with independently established findings of official negligence.

The Judiciary's Uncomfortable Arithmetic

The latest judicial recommendations make Nath's intervention particularly relevant. Of nine advocates recommended for elevation, eight are men. Tabasum Zafar is the sole woman. If her appointment receives final approval, she would become the first Kashmiri woman advocate appointed to the High Court.

That is an achievement worth recognising. It is also evidence of how much remains unfinished. The question is not whether male judges can deliver justice to women. They can, and many have done so with distinction. Judicial independence, competence and integrity must remain indispensable qualifications.

The question is why qualified women continue to encounter such limited representation at the highest levels of judicial authority. A shortage of women on the Bench cannot automatically establish discrimination in any individual appointment. But persistent inequality demands examination of the institutional processes that produce it.

Who enters the pool of candidates? Who receives professional encouragement? How are reputations assessed? Are women advocates afforded the same opportunities to develop the experience and professional standing traditionally associated with judicial elevation?

Equality Must Begin Inside the Courtroom

Article 14 of India's Constitution guarantees equality before the law. Article 15 prohibits discrimination on grounds including sex. These principles are fundamental to the Republic's conception of justice. Yet their promise cannot be judged solely by the language of judgments. Public institutions also communicate their values through leadership and representation.

Women litigants bring cases involving domestic violence, sexual assault, property, employment, family disputes and constitutional freedoms before courts. Their entitlement to impartial justice does not depend upon having a woman judge. Nevertheless, a judiciary that includes women meaningfully throughout its ranks strengthens the legitimacy and breadth of the institution.

Nath's statement therefore reaches beyond a numerical complaint. It asks whether India's judicial establishment is sufficiently willing to examine its own inequalities while exercising authority over those of society.

There is an irony here. The same legal system that can scrutinise discrimination in public appointments must also confront uncomfortable questions concerning its own selection practices.

The courts need not agree with every criticism Nath makes. Nor should her personal record place her arguments beyond scrutiny. But the judiciary owes the public something more substantial than an assurance that appointments are made on merit. It must demonstrate that merit is identified through a fair process in which capable women have a genuine opportunity to advance.

The appointment of one woman among nine recommended advocates is progress for that individual. It cannot, by itself, resolve the broader imbalance.

Ultimately, Nath's rhetorical question deserves an institutional answer. India's courts have repeatedly been asked to protect women's constitutional rights. It is reasonable to ask when women will occupy a substantially greater share of the judicial authority through which those rights are protected.

Until that happens, equality will remain a constitutional promise that the judiciary has yet to reflect adequately within its own ranks.