As South Asia teeters on the edge of climate catastrophe, Pakistan finds itself boxed into a treaty that is fast becoming a death warrant. The Indus Waters Treaty (IWT), once praised for defusing tensions between India and Pakistan, now underpins a slow-motion ecocide that is tearing through Pakistan’s water systems, crippling its agriculture, and fuelling a full-blown humanitarian crisis. What started as a diplomatic breakthrough in 1960 has morphed into a stranglehold, and it’s time Pakistan broke out of this deadly arrangement. India, despite advocating for a treaty revision, has been steadily undermining the IWT by bypassing dispute resolution mechanisms and expediting upstream projects. Worse still, it continues discharging four heavily polluted drains-Harike, Hudiara, Kasur, and Fazilka-into Pakistan, contaminating the Sutlej and Ravi rivers downstream. These drains carry industrial effluents, untreated sewage, and toxic chemicals, including heavy metals and pathogens, across the border. According to a 2023 report by the Punjab Environmental Protection Department, contamination levels in these rivers often exceed permissible limits by over 300%, rendering large stretches biologically dead. This isn’t just water pollution-it’s ecocide masquerading as routine transboundary discharge. And it’s not abstract: millions of Pakistanis are forced to drink, bathe, and farm with this toxic water, triggering a surge in health disorders ranging from gastrointestinal diseases to cancers. The humanitarian implications are dire. The World Health Organization estimates that up to 60 million Pakistanis are at risk due to poor water quality, and 53,000 children die annually from waterborne diseases. The epicentre of this catastrophe? Southern Punjab. Bound by inertia and risk-averse diplomacy, Pakistan’s policymakers clung to the IWT like a crutch, even as the ground gave way beneath them. In the floodplains of Ravi and Sutlej, arsenic contamination in groundwater is spinning out of control. A 2017 study published in Science Advances found that up to 47% of wells in the Ravi belt exceed the WHO arsenic threshold of 10 µg/L, compared to just 9% in other areas. In districts like Vehari and Burewala, average arsenic concentrations clock in at 14.0 µg/L and 11.0 µg/L respectively. These aren’t just numbers-they represent poisoned drinking water for hundreds of thousands. Children, particularly vulnerable, are bearing the brunt: stunted growth, skin lesions, cognitive delays, and in some cases, fatal toxicity. The roots of this crisis stretch deeper than contaminated inflows. Pakistan’s outdated irrigation infrastructure loses over 60% of diverted water through seepage and evaporation. Meanwhile, more than 90% of the country’s freshwater is consumed by agriculture-primarily low-yield, water-intensive crops like sugarcane and rice. This model not only drains the Indus dry but also fails to deliver. Much of the produce is unfit for export, rejected by international markets, and dumped domestically-often still tainted by the contaminants choking our rivers. Add to that the collapse of the Indus Delta. Once nourished by 146 million acre-feet (MAF) of water annually, the delta now receives less than 8 MAF, with catastrophic consequences. Saltwater has crept over 100 kilometres inland, displacing farming families, killing mangroves, and laying waste to once-productive lands. Thousands have been forced to give up farming altogether, migrating toward urban slums in search of livelihoods. It is estimated that over 1.5 million people have been displaced due to environmental degradation in lower Sindh alone-an internal climate migration that receives little media or policy attention. Meanwhile, India continues to play both sides: calling for the modernisation of the treaty while doubling down on unilateralism. In 2022, it completed the Shahpur Kandi barrage on the Ravi without consulting Pakistan, despite the treaty’s dispute resolution clauses. Projects like the Pakal Dul and Kishanganga dams are being rushed without environmental impact assessments shared across the border. India’s approach to transboundary water has shifted from sharing to strategic throttling-using rivers as levers of power while denying Pakistan even basic hydrological data. Pakistan’s policymakers, on the other hand, have been too slow to push back. Bound by inertia and risk-averse diplomacy, they’ve clung to the IWT like a crutch, even as the ground gives way beneath them. But this is no longer just a water-sharing issue-it’s a matter of survival. The treaty, in its current form, doesn’t protect Pakistan’s environmental rights or ensure basin-wide ecological health. It was designed in an era when pollution, aquifer depletion, and climate volatility were not yet pressing concerns. If Pakistan continues to be boxed in by the treaty, it will only dig deeper into ecological and humanitarian debt. The need of the hour is to tear up the script and call for a new, climate-conscious water framework. One that prioritises joint environmental monitoring, equitable distribution based on real-time data, and protection of riverine biodiversity. One that acknowledges not just national sovereignty, but ecological interdependence. Both countries stand to gain. Regional collaboration could lead to investments in smart irrigation, rainwater harvesting, and glacial monitoring. It could revive wetland ecosystems and build resilience against floods and droughts. But none of this can happen as long as the IWT remains frozen in the past. To stay quiet is to sign off on slow death. Pakistan must not only speak up-it must stand up, for its rivers, its people, and its future. The Indus doesn’t belong to governments alone-it belongs to every farmer, child, and community that depends on its flow. It’s time to fight for it-not with arms, but with vision and resolve. The writer is an Islamabad-based veteran journalist and an independent researcher. He can be reached on Twitter @riazmissen