First, tell me what happened?

On April 22, a group of five terrorists killed 26 tourists in a meadow in Pahalgam. The very next day, the government announced it would put the 65-year-old Indus Waters Treaty in “abeyance”—a term that may or may not have any legal validity. Let’s first explain what this pact is—and why it’s important.

The birth of IWF: Both India and Pakistan are dependent on the rivers flowing from the Himalayas. Partition required the two nations to figure out how to share the water. After a decade of negotiations, Jawaharlal Nehru and Ayub Khan signed a treaty—brokered by the World Bank—in 1960.

Terms & conditions: Here’s what both sides agreed to: India has exclusive rights over the three eastern rivers—Ravi, Beas and Sutlej. Pakistan has control over the three western rivers—Indus, Jhelum and Chenab. In effect, this gives Pakistan the lion’s share of the waters. But, but, but:

Although the western rivers are allocated to Pakistan, India retains limited rights to use their waters for “non-consumptive” purposes, including domestic use, irrigation, and hydroelectric power generation.

The two sides have occasionally haggled over details—each accusing the other of bad faith. But the treaty has stood the test of even the most turbulent times.

Cancelling the IWT: The treaty clearly states that it cannot be unilaterally canceled—“and only be terminated through a ‘duly ratified treaty’ agreed upon by both states.” New Delhi, therefore, declared that it would keep the treaty in “abeyance” with “immediate effect.” That word doesn’t have any legal meaning as per international law—but it likely means the treaty is suspended. Also good to know: international law does not permit one country to junk a treaty unless there is a “fundamental change in circumstances.” A brutal terrorist incident without any proof of Pakistani involvement likely doesn’t qualify. But the treaty remains at least suspended for now. 

Why are we doing this—“suspending” the IWT?

Let’s start with the obvious. Airstrikes on a single location—like Balakot—are mostly symbolic. Any military action—short of all-out war—has little potential to wreak significant damage. But starving a country of water—in the midst of a drought—can be lethal. Agriculture is a quarter of Pakistan’s economy. More than 80% of its agriculture and about a third of its hydropower generation depends on the Indus river. India has a clear geographical advantage—as you can see below: 

In theory, we could block the water—creating one kind of crisis:

The country is arid and has been battling acute water shortages, partly because of extreme weather events. Last month, Pakistan’s water regulator warned that Punjab and Sindh, the country’s key agricultural provinces, could already face water shortfalls of as much as 35% during the final phase of the current crop season.

Or flood Pakistan's fields instead:

Upcoming monsoon rains also hold risks for Pakistan because India could choose to release surplus water from the eastern rivers without prior notification, potentially triggering floods, said [Islamabad-based policy analyst] Naseer Memon… If India decides to withhold hydrological data, such as the timing of monsoons and floods, the unpredictability could hurt small farmers, Mr. Memon added.

An added bonus: The international community doesn't approve of bombing sovereign countries. But messing with river systems will likely be shrugged off:

“This is a clever, popular and populistic measure,” said Happymon Jacob, an associate professor of diplomacy and disarmament at Jawaharlal Nehru University. The global community is more likely to be concerned if border tensions escalate into armed conflict, Mr. Jacob said. “So, India has nothing to lose internationally” in suspending the water treaty, he added.

Pakistan’s response: has been angry and panicked—with lots of capitalisation to emphasise its force:

“Water is a Vital National Interest of Pakistan, a lifeline for its 240 million people, and its availability will be safeguarded at all costs. Any attempt to stop or divert the flow of water belonging to Pakistan as per the Indus Waters Treaty, and the usurpation of the rights of lower riparian will be considered as an Act of War.

Are we going to really cut Pakistan’s water?

The real question is whether we can cut Pakistan’s water supply. Not without considerable effort, as Senior Advocate of Supreme Court of India, Mohan V Katarki, explains: 

A water treaty is not like a water tap where the water will stop when you turn it off. The termination of the treaty, therefore,  has no meaning at all on the ground because the river water will continue to be drawn to Pakistan by gravity, regardless of a treaty or otherwise.

In other words, rivers will follow a given course unless humans go to great lengths to change its path. Media outlets grandly claim that New Delhi has a “three step plan” to do so—but there are zero details as to what they are.  

Point to note: India made the same threats in the past—without much follow through. In 2016, after the Uri attack on an Indian army base, Modi-ji said “blood and water can’t flow together.” Nothing happened. After the 2019 Pulwama attack, Transport Minister Nitin Gadkari grandly declared: “Our Govt. has decided to stop our share of water which used to flow to Pakistan. We will divert water from Eastern rivers and supply it to our people in Jammu and Kashmir and Punjab.” Nothing happened… again. 

Show me the infrastructure: Blocking rivers requires “massive storage infrastructure and extensive canal systems needed to withhold tens of billions of cubic metres of water from the western rivers.” We simply don’t have what it takes to block this deluge, say environmental experts: “These are run-of-the-river hydropower projects with very limited live storage. Even if India were to coordinate releases across all its existing dams, all it may be able to do is slightly shift the timing of flows.” 

But, but, but: India has upstream dams that can cause havoc—without violating the treaty per se: “The real issue is timing. If India chooses to fill its dams at a crucial time for Pakistan, it has the potential to ruin a crop.” We can’t block but we can create uncertainty—which can be catastrophic for an already water-stressed nation:

If India begins regulating the flow using its existing infrastructure, Pakistan could experience significant disruptions, particularly during the upcoming summer season when water availability is already at its lowest,” [said foreign policy expert] Dr. Happymon Jacob. 

Also this: An Indian government official told The Hindu that India will explore “options that it has never considered”—including “flushing”—where reservoirs are almost emptied: “The abrupt release of large volumes of water without prior warning could potentially cause significant damage downstream in Pakistan.” Reminder: The country suffered catastrophic flooding in 2022, wherein over a third of the country was under water with damages totalling at least $15-20 billion.

Something to see: India released water from the Uri dam without notice—dramatically raising the water levels of the Jhelum in Pakistan-occupied-Kashmir—causing panic and chaos. Guess that’s the equivalent of a warning shot. 

Ok, so what’s stopping us from doing this?

In one word: China. Once we open the door to using rivers as a weapon of mass destruction, it’s open season for our other unfriendly neighbours. India may be upstream to Pakistan—but it is downstream to China. Two of our most critical rivers—Indus and Brahmaputra—originate in Himalayan territory controlled by Beijing. Pan out from the India-Pakistan border—and our geographical advantage disappears: 

Reminder: The Brahmaputra supplies around 30% of our fresh water and 44% of our total hydropower potential. India is already anxious about Chinese plans to build massive dams on the river. Any move to starve Pakistan would also fast-track Chinese financing of new dams in Pakistan-controlled Kashmir—which wouldn’t bode well either. Water wars on the subcontinent are complicated.

A good example: is the Yarlung Zangbo—which originates near Mount Kailash in Tibet—then enters Arunachal Pradesh as the Siang river. Then it widens and is renamed as the Brahmaputra—which flows into Bangladesh before sinking into the Bay of Bengal. This Al Jazeera map shows its twisty path to the sea:

Now, China plans to build the world’s largest dam on that river—right off the Indian border. The Medog project is expected to dwarf even the Three Gorges Dam:

“It is obvious that China will have the card to use the dam as a strategic factor in its relationship with India to manipulate water flows,” said [Chinese Studies professor] Saheli Chattaraj. [Professor of Chinese Studies at JNU, BR] Deepak agreed. “Lower riparian countries like Bangladesh and India will always fear that China may weaponise water, especially in the event of hostilities, because of the dam’s large reservoir.” The reservoir is projected to have the capacity to hold 40 billion cubic metres of water.

The result: New Delhi wants to build its own mega-dam on the other side, in Arunachal Pradesh—to “mitigate the adverse impact of the Chinese dam projects.” 

Mutually assured dam destruction: Bangladesh is downstream to both China and India—and relies on the Brahmaputra for 65% of the country’s water—and will be the biggest loser in this ‘dam ka badla dam’ policy: “You cannot counter a dam with another down. It will have a huge and fatal impact on millions of us living downstream.” But it’s not just Bangladesh. These mega-dams will have catastrophic effects for everyone in a “Himalayan region with a fragile ecosystem and a history of devastating floods and earthquakes.” Consider this: 

About 15% of the great earthquakes — with a magnitude greater than 8.0 on the Richter Scale — in the 20th century occurred in the Himalayas. And that pattern of major earthquakes hitting Tibet has continued. On January 7, a 7.1-scale earthquake killed at least 126 people. At least five out of 14 hydro dams in the region examined by Chinese authorities after the earthquake had ominous signs of damage. The walls of one were tilting, while some others had cracks. Three dams were emptied, and several villages were evacuated.

The bottomline: In a rapidly warming world, water will become the ultimate weapon of war. We should be careful how we wield it. 

Reading list

Al Jazeera is very good on the water war between India and China. Reuters reports on the panic in Pakistan over the Indus Treaty threat. Also in Reuters: an overview of the treaty. New York Times has more on how India’s threat to block rivers could devastate Pakistan. The Telegraph explains why the ‘water weapon’ cuts both ways. This older Lowey Institute analysis explains why the two nations must cooperate over water sharing.