How India's actions on Chenab threaten Pakistan's survival

Weaponising water erodes the Indus Waters Treaty and risks turning scarcity into conflict

India's recent manipulation of Chenab River flows has once again brought the fragile water relationship between Pakistan and India into sharp focus. What was once hailed as one of the most successful examples of conflict-resilient diplomacy in the developing world is now being undermined by unilateral actions that threaten Pakistan's survival. The abrupt release of 58,300 cusecs of water into the Chenab, followed by expectations that India will refill its dams and reduce flows to near zero, is not just a technical matter of dam management, but a deliberate political act that destabilises Pakistan's irrigation system, disrupts agriculture and raises fears that water is being used as a coercive weapon in South Asia's already volatile environment.

Chenab River is central to Pakistan's agricultural economy, particularly in Punjab, where wheat cultivation depends on predictable irrigation flows. Reports from the Provincial Disaster Management Authority show how erratic the situation has become: 31,000 cusecs at Marala, 17,000 at Khanki, 11,000 at Qadirabad and 11,000 at Trimmu, with moderate rises expected. These fluctuations are not minor inconveniences; they directly affect canal operations, reservoir management, and ultimately the livelihoods of millions of farmers.

When water is released without prior notification, Pakistan's ability to plan is crippled. Farmers face crop damage, lower yields, increased input costs and rising indebtedness. In a country already struggling with food insecurity, such disruptions are devastating. The DG ISPR has gone so far as to describe these actions as "water terrorism", a phrase that captures the sense of deliberate destabilisation felt in Pakistan.

To understand the gravity of this situation, one must trace the history of water relations between Pakistan and India. The hostility between the two countries has been a defining feature of South Asian politics since the partition in 1947, and water has always been part of that rivalry. The Indus Waters Treaty, signed in 1960 with the mediation of World Bank, was a landmark agreement that divided the rivers of the Indus Basin between the two countries. Pakistan was given rights over the Indus, Jhelum and Chenab while India retained control over the Ravi, Beas and Sutlej. The treaty was designed to provide predictability and stability, ensuring that water would not become another trigger for conflict. Remarkably, it survived wars in 1965 and 1971, the Kargil conflict, and decades of political mistrust. It was often cited as proof that even bitter rivals could cooperate when it came to shared resources.

The treaty's resilience has been tested repeatedly. India's growing hydropower ambitions in Jammu and Kashmir have long been a source of tension. Projects such as Dulhasti Stage-II on the Chenab raised alarms in Pakistan, which feared that upstream control could be used to manipulate flows. The situation escalated dramatically after Operation Sindoor in 2025, when India suspended the treaty following the Pahalgam incident. This unilateral move was unprecedented. By holding the treaty in abeyance, India effectively declared that it no longer felt bound by the cooperative framework that had stabilised relations for decades. What followed was a pattern of abrupt dam operations, lack of data sharing and disregard for treaty mechanisms.

The nature of the current water conflict is complex. It is not simply about hydrology or engineering; it is about power, predictability and survival. India's actions breach the procedural obligations of IWT, which emphasised transparency, advance notifications and cooperative mechanisms. For Pakistan, the consequences are existential.

Wheat cultivation in Punjab, the country's breadbasket, is directly threatened. Irregular Chenab flows during the critical growing season disrupt irrigation across millions of acres. Reduced and uncertain water availability affects national grain production, amplifying vulnerability in an already stressed agricultural economy. Farmers are the most exposed, facing crop damage, lower yields, increased input costs and rising indebtedness. The lack of timely hydrological data-sharing undermines Pakistan's ability to plan canal operations and reservoir management, leaving the country at the mercy of upstream decisions.

Climate change makes this situation even more precarious. The Indus Basin is already under stress from shifting rainfall patterns, glacier melt and rising temperatures. In such a climate-stressed region, the predictability offered by IWT is more important than ever. Its erosion magnifies uncertainty, leaving Pakistan exposed to both natural and man-made shocks.

India's manipulation of the Chenab flows is not just a bilateral issue, but a global concern. The IWT was celebrated as a model of cooperation, a rare success story in a region otherwise defined by hostility. Its suspension undermines international confidence in treaties that safeguard shared resources. If one of the most successful water treaties in history can be set aside so easily, what does that mean for other agreements around the world? The erosion of the IWT framework risks setting a dangerous precedent, where upstream powers feel emboldened to use water as a tool of coercion. This is particularly alarming in a world where climate change is intensifying competition over scarce resources.

The way forward requires both immediate and long-term measures. Pakistan and India must recommit to the IWT framework, with third-party mediation to restore transparency and predictability. International organisations such as the UN and the World Bank, which played a role in brokering the original treaty, must intervene to ensure compliance. Climate-resilient water management should be prioritised, with joint mechanisms for data-sharing, flood forecasting and drought preparedness. Regional dialogue is also essential. South Asia needs a broader water diplomacy framework that includes Afghanistan and China, given their shared stakes in the Indus Basin.

At the domestic level, Pakistan must provide immediate relief measures for farmers, including subsidies, debt restructuring and irrigation support, to mitigate the impact of disrupted flows.

Ultimately, the plea to international organisations is clear. Water must not be allowed to become a weapon of coercion. The integrity of treaties like the IWT is vital not only for Pakistan's survival but also for global stability in a climate-stressed world. The Chenab crisis is a reminder that water is not just a resource; it is a matter of life and death. If the international community fails to act, the consequences will be felt far beyond South Asia. The erosion of the IWT is not just Pakistan's problem; it is a warning to the world that the age of water wars may be closer than we think.