Pankaj Chaturvedi
India’s suspension of the Indus Water Treaty with Pakistan in the aftermath of the 22 April terror attack in Pahalgam marked a sharp shift in the relations between the two neighbours.
The recent declaration by Union home minister Amit Shah, in an interview to The Indian Express, that not a drop of Indus water will flow into Pakistan only signals further aggravation. Calling Pakistan’s share under the 1960 treaty ‘unjust’, Shah said India would re-route water from the Indus to internal regions like Rajasthan through new canals.
Expectedly, the response from across the border was swift and sharp. Former Pakistan foreign minister Bilawal Bhutto— who led a Pakistani delegation to counter India’s diplomatic outreach on Operation Sindoor—threatened retaliation and warned that if the treaty was not restored, Pakistan would “seize all six rivers”. At a public rally, he said, “India has only two options: agree to the Indus Water Treaty, or Pakistan will wage another war.”
While such rhetoric may not be new, this time something feels different. This isn’t just about water anymore. It’s about power, pride and a world that’s slowly slipping away from the rule of law into one where might is right.
India clearly does not seem unduly perturbed by clauses in the ‘treaty’, which allows for international arbitration in case of disputes. The IWT is one of the few sustained cooperative mechanisms between the two countries, surviving multiple wars, and a disruption represents a strategic departure from rule-based diplomacy.
The impact is being felt on the ground. Reports in the media claim that the water flow to Pakistan has been slashed by nearly 20 per cent and dams in Pakistan are hitting ‘dead levels’, causing unrest among the people as uncertainty looms large over the sowing of the kharif crop.
According to media, the latest ‘Daily Water Situation’ report by the Indus River System Authority (IRSA) indicates that the total water released to Sindh province on
16 June 2025 was 1.33 lakh cusecs as against 1.6 lakh cusecs on the same day last year—a drop of 16.9 per cent. The water released to Punjab the same day was marginally less—1.26 lakh cusecs against 1.29 lakh last year.
Global context
India’s act cannot and should not be seen in isolation. Other countries too are ignoring well established international rules. Israel and the United States are thumbing down global norms and dismissing treaties despite all-round criticism. This ‘might is right’ doctrine, being ushered in globally, however, is fraught with uncertainties and risks, the most dangerous of which is allowing stronger and more powerful countries to dictate terms.
China has not only declared that it stands by Pakistan in its conflict with India, but also indicated that if India were to choke Pakistan, China might do the same to India. With several glacial rivers, originating from Tibet, it cannot be a comforting thought for the policymakers in India. Water wars are getting more real and up close.
Almost 80–90 per cent of Pakistan’s agriculture is dependent on the Indus water. While India can afford to gloat for the moment, it can hardly lose sight of the fact that it too can be hit by water shortage in the near future.
The Indus originates from a glacier named Seng Khabab, near Mansarovar lake and Mount Kailash in Tibet, and flows through Ladakh before entering Pakistan via Jammu and Kashmir. The Sutlej too originates from Longchen Khabab glacier near Rakshastal in Tibet, enters India near Shipki-La pass in Himachal Pradesh, then flows through Punjab before merging with the Indus in Pakistan.
Geospatial researcher and former NASA station manager, Y. Nityanand, has studied the data regarding water flow received from satellites and claims that Sutlej water coming to India has reduced by over 75 per cent in the last five years—from 8,000 gigalitres to 2,000 gigalitres. He is on record saying China is controlling the water flow, and if this trend continues, India could be the first to face the water shortage.
The mighty Brahmaputra, the lifeline of the northeastern states, also originates in Tibet where it is called Yarlung Tsangpo. China is currently building a 60,000 MW Medong dam on the river’s Great Bend near its border with India. This could potentially allow China to tamper with the flow of rivers like Brahmaputra and Teesta, increasing the risk of floods or drought downstream.
Nilanjan Ghosh, economist and vice-president at the Observer Research Foundation (ORF), who has studied the Tsangpo–Brahmaputra river system for almost two decades, however believes that any attempt to divert the flow will be counterproductive because it will lead to sediment deposit upstream, causing floods in the upper stream. He argues that the Yarlung Tsangpo contributes only 10–15 per cent of the total Brahmaputra water, the rest drawn from rain and the tributaries, making the Brahmaputra grow massively within India.
The argument still does not address the ability of China, the upper riparian state, to switch the tap off and on. China can arguably manipulate not just the Brahmaputra but also the Siang river in Arunachal Pradesh, which also originates from Tamlung Tso lake located southeast of Mount Kailash and Mansarovar. In Tibet, it is called Yarlung Tsangpo and after entering India, is known as Siang or Dihang. After travelling a distance of about 230 kilometre, it joins Lohit and then Dibang in Arunachal before merging with the Brahmaputra.
China and India too have agreements to share hydrological data. If China cites India’s approach to Pakistan to justify its actions, it is looking at a piquant situation. During the Doklam standoff in 2017, India experienced first hand the consequences of China withholding hydrological data, leaving India data-blind during floods.
Ecological fallout
Big dams being built by the Chinese can also potentially reduce the natural flow of silt and nutrients, important for making the agricultural land of the lower areas fertile. Lack of such silt can reduce agricultural productivity and damage the ecosystem of the river.
The geologically sensitive Himalayan region from Jammu and Kashmir to Arunachal Pradesh, prone to earthquakes, is also bearing the brunt of ‘development’, and the future looks unpredictable due to climate change. Another element of uncer-tainty is now added by the new doctrine.
The IWT was more than just a water-sharing agreement; it was a rare bridge of cooperation in a region otherwise marked by hostility. Its breakdown sends a stark message: the world order, as we know it, is fraying, and without checks, water may soon become not just a resource, but a trigger for conflict.
You may also like
IAF lost some jets due to no-strike orders on Pakistan's defences, says official; govt says remarks taken 'out of context'
India's Startup IPO Spring, Startup Funding Revives & More
Israeli soldier killed in Gaza
Jagannath Yatra 2025: What Is Hera Panchami? Know History & Rituals Of Fifth Day Of Rath Yatra
Start the week with a film: Texture and layers in murder mystery 'Only the River Flows'