Ismaili Arbitration Council: A Model Worth Reflecting Upon — A New Perspective on Justices

In Pakistan, seeking justice often feels like searching for water in a desert. The doors of the court open with hope, but once you step inside, you are greeted by endless dates, repeated hearings, and an unending cycle of lawyers’ fees.

My own experience has been no less strange. A land dispute that began with a straightforward agreement in 1975 is still wandering in the corridors of the court. The land was purchased by my late father; the agreement still exists, some witnesses are alive, and the land has remained in our possession and use ever since. Yet, three years ago, the heirs of the seller filed a new ownership claim—despite the fact that the boundaries are clear and even the plaintiffs admit that the land is under our use. In these three years, we have paid hundreds of thousands of rupees to lawyers, but instead of justice, the case has been reopened in the session court once again. One wonders — where are we supposed to go for justice?

Around that time, I happened to speak with an old friend after many years. I asked, “What keeps you busy after retirement?”

He replied, “I’m doing voluntary service with the Ismaili Arbitration Council.”

I was surprised — what kind of institution is this that talks about justice and service?

It turned out that the Ismaili Arbitration Council is a model that has connected the concept of justice with compassion, tolerance, and humanity.

This institution resolves family, financial, and social disputes outside the courts through reconciliation and mutual understanding. Here, judgments are not written on paper but engraved on hearts. The purpose is not merely to end conflicts but to restore relationships, bring hearts closer, and free society from bitterness.

This council is a trusted institution of the Ismaili community, where all services are rendered voluntarily. There is no personal gain, no fee — only goodwill, public service, and the spirit of justice.

In the northern areas and Chitral, where this community mainly resides, this system has become an exemplary social model. Interestingly, 99% of disputes among the Ismaili community never reach the courts. They are resolved locally through dialogue and reconciliation. Not only are the conflicts settled, but the parties often end up becoming close and cordial again.

It is incumbent upon us that if we cannot immediately reform an unjust judicial system, we can at least establish similar community-based institutions that function on principles of justice, compassion, and understanding.

The mosque — which is not only a place of worship — can also serve as the foundation for such reconciliation systems, so that the same place that connects hearts with God also connects people’s hearts with one another.

This model teaches us a lesson our judicial system seems to have forgotten —

that justice is not merely a written verdict; it is an act of uniting hearts.

If other communities, institutions, and social organizations adopt this approach, surely our society will see a decline in hatred, revenge, and the burden on courts.

Because when justice is dispensed with love, it opens not the doors of courts but the doors of hearts — and people truly become “sweet as sugar” with one another.

Create justice not among people but within intentions — for where intentions are pure, justice finds its own path.