Mudassir Rizwan
Reports that India suddenly released a large volume of water at Head Marala and then sharply curtailed flows in the River Chenab have sparked deep concern across Pakistan. The reduction of water to between 870 and 1,000 cusecs for several consecutive days could not have come at a worse time. The disruption coincided with the wheat sowing season, a critical period for farmers in Punjab who depend on timely and predictable irrigation to ensure a successful crop. For many, the inability to carry out the first watering has placed their livelihoods, and by extension national food security, under serious threat.
In an agrarian country like Pakistan, water is not merely a natural resource; it is the backbone of the economy. Millions of small farmers plan their sowing cycles around expected river flows. Sudden changes can ruin crops before they even take root. When irrigation schedules collapse, yields fall, rural incomes shrink, and food prices rise, placing additional strain on already vulnerable households. It is against this backdrop that Islamabad’s response must be understood.
The Foreign Office has described the abrupt fluctuations in Chenab’s flow as a matter of “extreme concern and seriousness.” This language reflects more than diplomatic routine. It points to the gravity of the situation when water management decisions upstream directly affect the survival of farming communities downstream. The Foreign Office has also stressed that these water releases were carried out unilaterally, without prior notification or the sharing of hydrological data. Such actions strike at the heart of the Indus Waters Treaty, which is built on principles of cooperation, transparency, and structured communication.
Signed in 1960 with World Bank facilitation, the Indus Waters Treaty is often cited as one of the most successful water-sharing agreements in the world. It has survived wars, crises, and prolonged hostility between Pakistan and India. Its durability comes from its clear allocation of rivers, detailed procedures for information sharing, and well-defined mechanisms for resolving disputes. The treaty does not rely on goodwill alone; it binds both countries to rules that limit unilateral actions and channel disagreements through institutional pathways such as the Indus Water Commissioners, neutral experts, and international arbitration.
Pakistan’s decision to raise the issue through the office of the Indus Water Commissioner is therefore not confrontational but entirely consistent with the treaty framework. This institutional route exists precisely to prevent misunderstandings from escalating into political or military crises. Any action that appears to manipulate river flows outside agreed procedures risks eroding trust in a system that has, for decades, kept water disputes from turning into open conflict.
The current controversy, however, cannot be separated from the broader political climate. Since the Pahalgam terrorism incident in April last year, relations between the two countries have further deteriorated. The Indian government’s decision to place the Indus Waters Treaty “in abeyance” has injected a dangerous level of uncertainty into transboundary water governance. Many observers see this move as part of a wider domestic political strategy, where tough rhetoric against Pakistan is used to mobilise public support.
While technical experts generally agree that India cannot fully block the western rivers allocated to Pakistan in the near future, this does not mean that harm cannot be done. Selective emptying and refilling of upstream reservoirs, even for short periods, can disrupt downstream flows at crucial times. For a farmer waiting to irrigate newly sown wheat, even a few days of reduced water can have lasting consequences.
This concern has been echoed at the international level. In its ruling of August 8, 2025, the Court of Arbitration explicitly described such practices as “water weaponisation.” The court reaffirmed that India has no legal right to unilaterally suspend the Indus Waters Treaty or manipulate flows in a way that harms downstream users. This ruling underscored an important principle: water agreements are not optional political arrangements but binding legal commitments under international law.
Pakistan has repeatedly warned that the use of water as a weapon would be viewed as an “act of war.” This phrasing may sound stark, but it reflects the existential importance of water for the country. In a nuclearised region marked by deep mistrust, even limited disruptions in shared rivers can raise the risk of miscalculation. What begins as a technical or administrative decision can quickly take on strategic dimensions, especially when public opinion, media narratives, and political pressures come into play.
The situation highlights the urgent need to depoliticise river management. Rivers do not recognise borders, and their governance cannot be safely subjected to electoral cycles or nationalist posturing. Predictable flows, advance notifications, and transparent data sharing are not favours extended at will; they are obligations enshrined in the Indus Waters Treaty and supported by international legal norms.
Recommitting to these principles is in the interest of both countries. For Pakistan, it means safeguarding food security, rural livelihoods, and economic stability. For India, it means preserving a treaty that has enhanced its reputation as a responsible regional actor and prevented water disputes from becoming a permanent source of conflict.
The alternative is deeply troubling. If abrupt disruptions become normalised, water will cease to be a shared resource managed through rules and institutions. Instead, it will become a constant source of tension, suspicion, and strategic rivalry. In a region already burdened by history and hostility, turning rivers into flashpoints would undermine not only bilateral relations but also broader regional peace and stability.
At this critical juncture, restraint, dialogue, and respect for established agreements are essential. The Indus Waters Treaty has endured because it separated water management from politics and anchored it in law and cooperation. Preserving that legacy is not just a legal necessity; it is a moral and strategic imperative for South Asia’s future.
