Weaponising the waters: How India is turning the Indus against Pakistan
India’s decision to halt the Indus Treaty not only threatens Pakistan’s water-dependent sectors but also undermines global norms around transboundary water agreements, setting a perilous precedent
For over six decades, the Indus Water Treaty (IWT) served as a rare symbol of resilience amid the ever-turbulent relationship between India and Pakistan. Through wars, diplomatic standoffs, and rising hostility, the rivers never stopped flowing—predictable, essential, unbroken.
But that era of predictability is now over, as it seems.
In a startling move, India has announced that it will no longer abide by the 1960 Indus Water Treaty, placing the agreement "in abeyance" until Pakistan, it claims, credibly and irrevocably renounces cross-border terrorism.
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This is not just a diplomatic rupture. It is a move that strikes at the heart of Pakistan's agriculture, water security, and economic stability.
The backbone of Pakistan
Few international agreements have the kind of everyday impact that the Indus Water Treaty does. Signed in 1960 with the World Bank as mediator, the treaty divided the six rivers of the Indus Basin between the two countries. India received the Ravi, Beas, and Sutlej—eastern rivers. Pakistan, the Indus, Jhelum, and Chenab—western rivers that account for nearly 80% of the basin's water volume.
This isn't just a number. That 80% supports a nation. The water irrigates fields in Punjab and Sindh, powers hydroelectric dams like Tarbela and Mangla, and sustains millions in both rural and urban Pakistan.
The agricultural sector, which accounts for nearly a quarter of Pakistan's GDP and employs more than two-thirds of its rural population, relies on this water to survive.
Predictability under threat
The threat isn't an immediate stoppage—hydrologically and practically, that's nearly impossible in the short term. The western rivers are massive, and India lacks the storage capacity to suddenly choke them off without risking flooding its upstream regions. But it's not about volume. It's about timing.
In Pakistan's delicately balanced irrigation system, even small delays or disruptions in water flow can derail entire planting cycles. A delayed winter flow can ruin wheat sowing.
A drop in summer water levels can parch fields or diminish electricity production. With climate change already narrowing the margins of survival, unpredictability in water flow could be devastating.
The legal and strategic precipice
The treaty was designed to be unbreakable—quite literally. Article XII explicitly states it can only be modified by mutual consent. There is no provision for suspension or unilateral withdrawal. India's action, then, is not just a diplomatic gesture; it's a challenge to the very foundation of international water law and treaty reliability.
Pakistan's water system—its canals, reservoirs, and farming schedules—was built around the assumption that the flows would come. That assumption is now in question. And in a country where water is already a scarce and fragile resource, uncertainty is as dangerous as shortage.
A precedent with global ripples
India's move could carry consequences far beyond the subcontinent. As a downstream riparian on the Brahmaputra and other rivers originating in China, India has historically advocated for the sanctity of water-sharing agreements. By stepping outside the Indus Treaty framework, it risks setting a precedent that others, including China, might one day use against it.
Moreover, India's aspirations to be seen as a responsible global actor, especially in climate negotiations and multilateral development forums, could suffer. Trust is hard to earn and easy to lose, especially in a region where water is rapidly becoming the scarcest resource.
Pakistan's policy
The coming weeks will likely be filled with diplomatic protests, legal challenges, and calls for international mediation. But for Pakistan, this moment should also serve as a wake-up call—a chance to reassess how its water system functions, and how resilient it really is.
Is there room to increase water-use efficiency in agriculture? Can the country diversify its energy mix to reduce reliance on hydroelectric power? Are there investments to be made in groundwater recharge, wastewater recycling, and drought-resilient crops?
These are not just policy questions. They are questions of survival.
The Indus Waters Treaty was never just about water. It was a framework of trust that managed to survive in one of the most contested regions on earth. Its breakdown, or even its erosion, is not just symbolic—it is material.
