In Sahariya settlements, justice once sat in the open. Elders gathered on the chabootara, a raised platform in the public square, to listen, weigh accounts, and steer disputes toward consensus. Each basti maintained its own forum, informal and fluid, and distinct from the state recognised village panchayats with state grants and governed by rules on representation, tenure, and jurisdiction. This was governance without files or funds, rooted instead in proximity and mutual dependence.

Such informality reflected a way of life in which permanence itself was rare. Until recently, conflict with neighbouring communities often prompted communal relocation rather than confrontation. Families packed up and moved on. Only now, with agriculture on government-allotted land, and scheme-built housing, many Sahariyas are settling in fixed locations. Even so, the infrastructure associated with recognised villages, including water, electricity, roads and schools, remain largely out of reach.

Within this context, the Sahariya panchayat addressed everyday disputes. Delayed loan repayments, encroachment on land, wandering or captured livestock, and other disagreements were discussed collectively. Serious crimes such as rape or murder fell outside its scope and were handled through formal state channels once reported. Family separations followed customary norms as there is no formal concept of divorce. Separations were public, and new partnerships accepted. Children stayed with whichever parent or relative was best placed to care for them.

The Sahariya panchayat system was designed around the rhythms of daily wage labour. Meetings took place in the evenings, once work was done, allowing broad participation. Decisions were reached quickly and collectively. Though informal, the panchayat carried weight, drawing legitimacy through respect and compliance was a matter of social honour and belonging. The primary sanction was social exclusion. In a community frequently exposed to discrimination and harassment, belonging offered protection. Therefore, to be excluded was a serious deterrent.

Today, in one basti, elders struggle to recall the last time such a panchayat was convened. Nearly a decade has passed, they recall. The decline is tied to broader change. Settlement brought new forms of mobility, including migrant labour, exposure to towns, and access to information. Younger Sahariyas increasingly recognise that life continues beyond the community, in spaces where communal sanction holds little sway. Formal legal systems, however distant or imperfect, sometimes appear to offer better outcomes. At the same time, the community’s ability to enforce decisions has weakened as state institutions have expanded.

The Sahariya panchayat has not faded by decree but disuse. Its decline reflects a shift from collective resolution to individual calculation, and from negotiated consensus to procedural law. What is being lost is not merely an institution, but a way of holding a vulnerable community together.

Zenith’s field experience, however, paints a more complex picture. For tribals from the Baiga, Gond, Sahariya, Bhil and Bharia communities, informal panchayats, despite decline, still remain the primary forum for dispute resolution. An overwhelming majority of conflicts never reach the police, and many families have never entered a courtroom. Even younger generations, despite greater exposure to state institutions, retain a deep mistrust of them. Police interactions are often associated with humiliation or extortion, while courts are viewed as slow, costly and alien.

The result is a widening gap. Indigenous systems are weakening just as formal ones fail to gain legitimacy. Zenith’s team sees that reinvigorating informal panchayats is therefore not an exercise in nostalgia, but a practical response. Its work includes reminding communities to take pride in the mechanisms they already possess and encouraging renewed collective engagement with a system that is theirs, shaped by them, and sustained from within.

Gathering of Sahariya elders in a chaupal.